(Arrythmic) Heart of Darkness
by Wordmage Kazzidae
Summary: This began as a strange Facebook joke: a KS page that I frequent posted a picture of Hisao with glowing red eyes and text about him having a sweatervest from Diablo himself. I said I was tempted to write a fanfiction about it, he said 'doo et faget' (not exactly in those words) and here it is, uploaded on this site so he doesn't have to constantly link back to my Notes. Strap in...
1. Start of Darkness

In the Stygian blackness of Yamaku Forest's innermost sanctum, in a little clearing unbeknownst to mortal man, a blood-red moon shone upon a deep black pool. Mirrorless and bottomless, to gaze into the pool was to gaze into the darkest depths of one's own heart – and then fall forever into purest insanity.

Part of the pool raised up a sickly appendage, as though attempting to form a wretched and sickly mockery of nature's sacred creations. The five-fingered prong slapped wetly down onto the earth... and became bone.

Towards the clearing, Stiddaroli-clad feet paced unhurriedly. Although they moved in total silence, the nearby animals scurried and flitted away before they could attract that unholy being's attention. Only humans are stupid enough not to know instinctively when evil incarnate is walking by.

Another limb formed out of the murky pool, dragging itself up until the head showed. Holding his jawbone in place with one hand, this unnatural miscreant hauled itself up, its ribcage not quite so empty as its skull: a heart of pure and unadulterated darkness beat arrythmically within, and with each untimely beat its arteries and veins spread, wrapping around and into muscles that ravelled together in stops and starts, jerks and jolts, even before the naked eye. Well – two eyes, watching from the edge of the clearing: they narrowed with a sense of wry amusement, as though this whole charade was a spectacle put on for their pleasure alone.

The organs formed within the ribcage, but it wasn't until the lungs were connected to the voicebox that the scream began. In a perverse parody of an infant's first cry the initially raw and hoarse scream emanated from a skinless, faceless mouth, mind-killing terror and excruciating agony etched deep into the lidless eyes as they squidged into being.

This strange, depraved creature slowly continued hauling itself out of the desecrated pool of its unnatural rebirth, its skin growing to cover bare veins and nerves even as they scraped over the blasted ground, yelling out its torture all the while. Finally it came to rest, groaning and heaving for breath, at the suited one's feet.

"So you're the new boy." Their free hand swilled a wineglass, a devilish grin forming on their face.

The wretched being on the ground coughed up some blood by way of a reply.

The suited one tossed a briefcase onto the floor beside him. "Clothes. Put them on. We don't want you scaring the ladies." They paused. "Well. Not yet." Grin.

As soon as he was decent the newborn said "You're my contact?"

They nodded. "That's right. I have the privilege of being our mutual master's ambassador in this realm. My other duties permitting, I will assist you in whatever way I may."

"Great. My name's Hisao-" They offered a hand to shake, which he took – and instantly regretted, for it was a grip as tight as steel hoops. He looked up into eyes as red and bright as the moon.

"I am also his enforcer. In the event that you should default on your end of the bargain, I will be the one to collect. Depending on how displeased our master is, I may be ordered to have some fun with you before handing you over. There are far worse fates than eternal damnation. Believe me."

Hisao swallowed. "Yes sir."

They smiled pleasantly. "Good. Also, it's ma'am. Not that you'd guess it by looking, of course." He detected a slight hint of pride, for some reason. "Can I offer you a smoke, perhaps a drink? It's warm, full-bodied and fruity."

"You... are talking about wine, aren't you?" asked Hisao, dubiously eyeing the red contents of the wineglass.

"Maaaaaybe." The newly-revealed she chuckled, taking a sip.

Hisao took the last article out of the briefcase. "...Not that I mean to offend, but this... thing... looks awful."

She glanced at the offending (and offensive) object. "Well it _is_ demonic."

"It's a sweatervest."

"It's the best we could come up with at short notice," she said, her tone of voice suggesting 'better you than me'. "That particular item of clothing is woven from the hair of sacrificed virgins, so treat it with care. You wouldn't believe how expensive virgins are these days." She peered into her wineglass with a disgruntled look as if seeing a discomfortingly large figure floating on its surface.

"So, is it imbued with Dia-?"

Hisao didn't realise what had happened until a few milliseconds after. The woman could move faster than a snake could strike, in this case to place a finger over his lips. She shook her head disappointedly.

"Do _not_ mention his name, nor the name of any other being of his level. To mention their name with knowledge of what they really are is to invoke their power. It is only to be done in the most extreme of circumstances, do you understand me?"

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded, her finger and the rest of that sinister hand returning to the pocket whence it had come. "Let's hope you continue to learn that quickly. And in answer to your question, yes, the sweatervest does have some of his power in it: it will protect you and grant you certain other benefits that will aid you in your quest."

"What other benefits?"

She grinned that all-knowing grin. "Well now, you don't want to spoil the surprise, do you?" Her hand re-emerged from its pocket, much more slowly this time, bearing a sealed envelope. The seal was, of course, in dried blood. "Contained within are the names and pictures of the girls you are to conquer for his lordship. They all go to Yamaku, the nearby school at which you will be staying and studying for the next year. Any additional souls you manage to capture during that year will no doubt sweeten the deal, but they aren't necessary. Something tells me you'll have your hands full with this lot."

Hisao hefted the envelope. "It seems heavier than that."

"There's also a cell-phone. My number's already in there, so you'll be able to call me wherever I am."

Hisao raised an eyebrow at her. "Even if you're... down there?"

She smiled lazily. "Wherever I am. There're a couple of extra freebies on the phone too, so feel free to have a poke around. If that's all, I have other matters to which I must attend." She turned adroitly on a heel, started to walk away, raising her free hand-

"Wait! You haven't told me your name."

The suited one paused. "Nor will I. Around here though, they call me Akira." She finished her goodbye wave. "Try not to have too much fun without me."


	2. The Near-Sighted Sage

Hisao stayed in the clearing for a while, not out of any loyalty to the vile wombpit that had spat him dragging and screaming back into the mortal world, but so that he could take a look at the contents of the envelope. As Akira had said, there was a cell-phone inside – a very sleek and glossy black one, no less, although not of any make that Hisao could discern at a glance – and a manila folder. Hisao was surprised at first, but then had some fun doing the impossible by fitting the clearly oversized folder into the envelope, putting it in, taking it out... then the trees nearby rattled loudly despite there being no wind. Hisao took this as a message to get on with it.

There were five papers inside, each printed very neatly and crisply in blood. Hisao shrugged, figuring that it was probably cheaper than printer ink. On each page was also a picture of a girl – although in one case, there were two pictures. Details included were such handy titbits as their names, classes, dorm room numbers, cell numbers, favourite hang-out spots, three sizes...

Hisao didn't remember much of the details that came after that, but he did feel more positive about his quest as he set out from the clearing, the blood-red moon turning back to the whiter, softer pearlescence with which we are familiar. It then dawned on him: he didn't know which way it was to Yamaku.

"AKIRAAA!"

...

Well, it was worth a shot.

The moon chose this tactful juncture to disappear behind a thick blanket of clouds, plunging Hisao into darkness. After enduring so much metaphorical darkness Hisao was almost glad to be swathed in the literal absence of light, but that didn't make his situation any better. He took out the phone, hoping like hell that it had a light-up screen... which it did! Not only that, but it had a whole bunch of interesting-looking applications. For now, Hisao looked for one that might give him a sense of direction: he ended up stumbling across something called 'Marauder's Map: Blackheart Edition'. Not sure exactly what a marauder is or whether he wanted to be one, Hisao gave it a try and was surprised to discover that it gave him a top-down view of himself, handily circled and labelled 'You'. He looked up, saw nothing there. Looked quickly back down – his tiny Hisao-head onscreen blurred slightly in accordance with the motion. Zooming out, he located Yamaku... and was surprised to see lots of other names there. On a spur of curiosity, Hisao zoomed out as far as he could.

"Oh for fuck's sake."

Hisao jumped. Had the phone just... talked?

"Yeah, I did," said the Blackheart, in a very unmachine-like drawl. "And yes, I just read your mind too. Handy, eh? Look, are you really sure you want me to give you a map of the whole world? I mean, I _can_ populate the list with over seven billion names, but I very much doubt that you're going to read any of them."

"Uh... I guess not, then. I just need to get to my dorm."

The screen changed to a compass with a needle pointing to a label that said 'Walk that way, doofus.' Deciding that he was probably the doofus, Hisao walked that way. He talked that way as well, although the phone quickly grew tired of his company and pretended to put itself on deaf mode.

Hisao soon reached Yamaku. From what he could see of its dimly-lit exterior the main building looked quite grand, and the grounds overall were very spacious. He hurried on to his dorm, there to be greeted by the nightwatchman.

"You Hisao Nakai?" he said gruffly.

"Yes...?"

"Here's your key. Get to your room and stay there for the night or I'll beat your ass." Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, Hisao did as he was told.

...or he tried to, but was accosted on his way to his room. As he approached his door, he saw that the door on the opposite side of the corridor was ever-so slightly ajar. Not only that, but there seemed to be something glinting in the gloom beyond.

Fear gripped Hisao's heart – not a healthy thing for it to do considering his condition, but it did it anyway. Was he being watched? Was that glint the end of a gun barrel? He told himself to calm down: it was probably just his imagination playing tricks. But what if there was actually someone there, say, a shy dorm-mate?

"Um... hello!" said Hisao, in as cheery a voice as he could muster under the circumstances. He also tried to make his voice sound as deep and masculine as he could at the same time just to cover both contingencies, with the result that he ended up sounding rather ridiculous.

The face that appeared from the crack in the door seemed elated with the performance. Before Hisao could react, he found himself being warmly greeted with malice aforethought.

"You! My good man! Welcome!" He glared at Hisao myopically through glasses that could have been used to repair the Hubble telescope. "You _are_ a man, aren't you?"

"Last time I checked...?"

"Good! Good. As I said, welcome to Yamaku! It's an honour and a pleasure to have another man here to fight the good fight. I'm sure you're ready and raring to get at those feminists, aren't you?"

"...Sure?"

"Excellent!" the strange bedclothed hermit rattled on, seemingly oblivious to Hisao's apparent lack of conviction in the anti-feminist cause. "Because, I feel I should warn you, newcomer, that the women here are _crazy_. Absolutely bonkers. Don't trust a single one of them, you hear?"

"I'll keep that in mind," said Hisao, hoping that the crazy person would go away if he just kept pleasantly agreeing to the things he said.

"You do that, you do that..." the hermit muttered. "Well, I'm sure you're eager to get to bed and build up those feminist-fighting reserves of energy, but if you ever need any advice on how to deal with the women here, come talk to me, I've been studying them for ages: I know all their weird little habits and rituals better than the back of my hand!"

"How often do you actually study the back of your hand?" Hisao asked in a monotone under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing. See you bright and early, Mister...?"

"The name's Setou: Kenji Setou." For the second time that night Hisao found his arm taken perforce, although the grip this time was less hoops of steel and more hats of tinfoil. "And yours, my fellow brother-in-arms?"

"Hisao," he replied tacitly, deciding that it might not be the best move to let this nutcase know his family name.

"Hisao! Wonderful. Well, see you around soon, doubtlessly..." The strange probably human being shuffled back through the door from which it had ambushed Hisao and closed it. Hisao heard the application of several locks, bolts and chains. Hisao stood in the corridor briefly, ruminating on the horrors he'd experienced in the Burning Hells – and how, despite that, he was still more sane than this Kenji person. Still, he had pills to take and a bed to get to...


	3. Initiation

Despite claiming that he would see Kenji bright and early the next morning, Hisao had absolutely no intention of crossing paths with the reclusive hermit. He got up slightly before the time he estimated the other students would get up for their classes and ninja'd his way out of the dorms. Hisao anticipated that having a good idea of the layout of the grounds would be of help in future, so he used the Blackheart to navigate his way around...

...and was surprised to see a red name flash up on the screen, making its way around the running track.

"Why's that name red?"

"Remember when you photographed those pages last night so I could show them to you anytime?" Hisao nodded, partly out of curiosity to see whether the Blackheart understood visual cues and partly to annoy him if he didn't. "Well, I've cross-referenced that information with the map. Any of the girls you're after will show up as priority labels."

"Well that's handy. I've never had a secretary phone before."

"You're welcome, by the way." The Blackheart put itself on deaf mode again, which was its way of saying 'this conversation is over'. Hisao would have preferred a less huffy secretary.

Hisao made his way to the track, figuring he might as well get a headstart on his quest. As he soon saw even a headstart wouldn't have been enough to top this girl: she moved along the track like a high-voltage current through a circuit, constantly shooting ahead as though the empty space in front of her was an insult to everything that she was.

This was Emi Ibarazaki, the legless one: one of his targets. Although he felt some pangs of guilt over it, he found it easier to remember the girls by each one's disability. To be honest, though, Hisao hardly thought it a disability for her: the way Emi moved on those legblades it was truly difficult to believe that she'd ever had normal human legs at all.

Hisao nodded. Time to make his first move.

"Um, hello? Excuse me!"

"Just a second, only one more lap!" Emi continued running, not even glancing to see who'd spoken. The look of determination on the small girl's face, the entire attitude of her movement suggested the kind of mentality that would not be swayed from its course. Hisao waited patiently on the bleachers, but thanks to Emi's habit of eating up the metres he didn't have to wait long.

"Hey there! Sorry for ignoring you, I just can't break my stride. I hope you won't mind if I do some cooldown stretches while we talk."

"Not at all, I just needed some directions," said Hisao, playing the role of friendly new student admirably. "I'm new here, see, and I thought I'd get used to the campus, but, well... maybe I should've got a guide first." Hisao smiled in what he hoped was a charming way. He'd never particularly been a hit with the ladies in his previous life, so he aimed to learn quickly.

Charming or not, he clearly had the girl's attention. "Yeah, I thought you had the look of a new guy about you. Welcome to Yamaku; I'm Emi." The smile that Emi then gave Hisao felt like being bathed in a shower of tinkling rainbows. It felt entirely unlike the determined, hardened track runner he'd seen just now.

"Uh... yeah, Hisao. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Same here." Again, that bright smile like being buried under an avalanche of puppies and kittens. It was almost enough to make Hisao yearn for Akira's enigmatic, vaguely threatening grin – almost. "Which class are you in, by the way?"

"3-3."

"Aw, darn! I'm in 3-4. Still, we won't let that get in the way of becoming friends, am I right?" Emi added to her smile with a playful wink. Hisao desperately wondered whether he might start wearing sunglasses when talking to this girl.

"Sure, I don't see why we should." Hisao added a laugh that he suspected Emi would almost certainly pick up as fake, but she seemed delighted with his response.

"That's great! Well, I'd better be off – if I don't shower and get changed before class starts the teacher'll shout at me again." Emi put on the look of a pouting little girl. Hisao wondered whether what he was supposed to do to her would actually be legal – the sexual part, not the soul-stealing part, that definitely wasn't. Although, the law makes no mention of soul theft...

"Sure, see you later." Emi gave Hisao one last smile like a torrent of sunbeams and dashed off around the bleachers.

Thinking the conversation through later, Hisao reflected that he probably hadn't been the one in control of it. He hadn't even got the directions he'd asked for.

* * *

Hisao made his way directly to class after that. He knew that there were some of his target girls there so it only made sense to get a feel for the lay (of the class). As he entered, there were quite a few eyes on him – only to be expected as the new face – but there were two and a half pairs that particularly caught his attention. At the front sat a sharp-looking blue haired girl who apparently had been caught in mid-gesticulation as Hisao came in. Her eyes had a highly analytical feel to them: Hisao felt as though every part of his appearance, and probably a good deal beyond that, was being thoroughly scrutinised, every fact being stored away in mental filing cabinets for later perusal. As soon as this visual vetting process was done, she turned back to her outrageously pink-haired friend and continued what she'd been saying.

Hisao recognised the pink-haired girl as the other picture from that girl's page. He remembered: Shizune and Misha, inseparable friends, quite aside from Misha's role as her interpreter. The notes suggested that, if he played his cards right, he could get to Misha through Shizune and net himself a nice little bonus soul. Hisao wondered whether it would be entirely wise to do so: that stare Shizune had given him made him feel as though she'd looked straight through him.

Then there was the third target in this class, who seemed to be pretty much the opposite of everything that Shizune was: the long-haired girl who sat right at the back of the class hiding behind a book had barely even glimpsed Hisao for a second before returning to her reading, not in a sneaky way but in a 'oh god did he see me' kind of way. Out of the girls he'd seen so far Hisao felt most confident about this one, if only because he was almost assuredly going to be the one in control. Still, making an overt approach in front of the entire rest of the class would raise questions: for now Hisao merely took his seat and played it cool. Or as cool as he could in that sweatervest, anyway: although it wasn't part of his uniform, Hisao had decided to wear it under his shirt just in case he required its demonic powers at a moment's notice. Strangely enough, he didn't need to wear another thinner vest underneath it to prevent itching or chafing – who knew virgins' hair would be so soft?

Not long after a man in a brown jacket sporting an impressive five o'clock shadow strolled into the room. The class gradually began to settle down as he entered and plopped his case down on the front desk. He scanned the faces there assembled, saw Hisao and did possibly the subtlest double-take Hisao had ever had the pleasure of seeing. He then strolled in his inimitably leisurely way over to Hisao.

"Hisao Nakai, I presume," he said in a thoughtful tone. Something about the man suggested that he rarely ever did anything in a way that wasn't thoughtful. "I'm Akio Mutou, homeroom teacher for Class 3-3 and head of the school's science department. I was expecting to get some time to talk to you separately before you entered." Mutou frowned slightly, as though having noticed an errant thread poking from Hisao's collar.

"Oh – yes, I managed to get some directions to the classroom, so I thought I'd just come straight here." Hisao smiled amiably on the outside, but for some reason felt like sweating bullets on the inside.

"Mmm. Well, no matter," said Mutou, dismissing it with an airy wave. "I merely wanted to ask you whether you'd like to introduce yourself to the class. It's by no means obligatory."

"Well... sure, why wouldn't I?"

Mutou looked at Hisao oddly. He was just as inscrutable at Shizune was scrutinising. "Very well. Quiet, you lot," Mutou called out (still lazily, despite raising his voice), "we have a new transfer student in today and he'd like to introduce himself to all of you. You have the floor, Mister Nakai." With a somewhat grandiose gesture Mutou backed away, sweeping his arm toward the front desk.

Hisao took his position at the front of the room. The combination of Shizune and Mutou staring at him made him feel very ill at ease, but he resolved to put on a good performance nonetheless: one never gets a second chance to make a first impression, a job well-begun is a job half-done, start as you mean to continue, etc..

"Hello everyone. I'm Hisao Nakai, recently transferred here from the city-" There was a murmur of interest at this, which wasn't surprising being out in the sticks as they were. "-and I'll be sharing my third year of high school with you. It's my hope that we can all get along well together." He bowed, as was the customary full-stop to such an introduction.

There was a polite smattering of applause from the class. Somehow, this highly annoyed Hisao. Immediately reflecting on what he'd just said, it had been very bland, very stereotypical. As Mutou moved in, Hisao held out a hand, staying him.

"There's a bit more I'd like to add. Before any of you ask, yes, I transferred here because I had to, not because I wanted to. I have arrythmia, or in full I have cardiac dysrythmia and congenital heart muscle deficiency." There were mixed reactions to this statement throughout the class: some took it calmly, others gasped slightly at Hisao's candour, yet others nodded strongly as if to extend their sympathies. "As a result of this I would be very thankful if you wouldn't give my heart any sudden shocks, physically or figuratively. However, the mere fact that I am here out of necessity rather than choice does not mean that I am resentful: I fully believe that I will make my future at Yamaku Academy, one way or another. Perhaps even in science, I don't know...?" Hisao finished, smiling slyly across at Mutou. Mutou returned a decidedly lop-sided smile, but that seemed to be enough to get some of the class to generate a ripple of laughter.

"Almost anything is possible, given time," Mutou replied pleasantly, if somewhat cryptically. "Thank you for your introduction, Mister Nakai – if you would retake your seat..."

"That speech was really something!" Misha whispered to Hisao as he sat: the only empty seat had been directly adjacent to her, beside the window. "I get the feeling that this man might be of Student Council calibre – what do you think, Shicchan?" Hisao realised that, even when she'd been talking directly to him, Misha's hands were constantly busy translating to Shizune. Shizune made a gesture that looked distinctively dismissive even to someone with no knowledge of sign language. Misha laughed. "Wahaha!" Hisao had the dreadful feeling that it was only the first of many times that he would hear that laugh. "Shicchan seems to think you aren't up to much, but I'll have a word with her. We'll get you into the Council yet."

"Um... thanks?" said Hisao, not quite sure what the Student Council had to do with anything. Although, he reflected as the class continued, getting into a position of power in the student body might not be such a bad thing – especially if it allowed him to position himself closer to Shizune, who was after all one of his designated targets. And, as his time in the Burning Hells had taught him, obtaining power just for its own sake is almost always worth it.

Just out of curiosity, Hisao threw a couple of glances back at the rest of the class as the morning went on. He caught Hanako looking at him – she immediately disappeared behind her book, but there was no doubt that she'd been staring at Hisao with a slightly distant look in her eyes. Hisao smiled to himself: a good start to the year, and to his campaign of conquest.


	4. A Great Old Time

Break time eventually rolled around. Hisao had been planning to make a move on Hanako but found himself ambushed by the Student Council: he watched despairingly as Hanako vacated the classroom faster than a skittish squirrel.

"Since you're new here, we members of the Student Council have decided to take it upon ourselves to welcome you to Yamaku Academy and answer any questions that you might have! Wahaha!"

Ignoring Misha's use of her catchphrase laugh as a punctuation mark, Hisao asked "Is there somewhere we can get lunch?"

"Of course! Walk this way."

Hisao watched Misha take bounding steps towards the door. He decided, on mature reflection, not to walk in quite that way for fear of throwing a hip. Shizune was waiting for them, her entire demeanour as they made their way down to the cafeteria suggesting that she regarded Hisao as little more than a necessary duty. Once they were all sat down, Hisao played his gambit.

"So, you know my name. I hope I'm not being too forward in asking for yours."

"Oh, gosh! I'm sorry Hisao, I was so excited about showing you around that I forgot to introduce us! I'm Misha, this is Shizune. I don't think she'll mind if you call her Shicchan though – I do it all the time," Misha added in a spirit of conspiratorial fun. Hisao hadn't the faintest grasp of sign language but could still tell very easily by the gestures that Shizune was making that yes she _did_ mind Hisao calling her that. "We are also," Misha added grandly, "the Student Council of Yamaku Academy! If you want to get anything done around here, you talk to us." Shizune nodded sagely in agreement with Misha's hands.

"Really? So how does one go about becoming a member of the Student Council?"

Misha dropped her fork, her mouth open. Shizune signed a quick question, obviously not having understood. Misha translated what Hisao had just said. Shizune's jaw also dropped. When she recovered a second later her signing was fast and furious.

"Are you seriously thinking of joining the Council?" asked Misha, her question just as urgent as Shizune's vigorous signing would suggest.

"Well sure," said Hisao, apparently casually. "Someone around here has to be in charge, right? It seems to me like a lot of people don't appreciate the lengths to which certain people have to go to get things done."

"Wow, you sound like Shicchan," said Misha, her reaction halfway between surprise and amusement. Shizune's reaction, however, was a lot less ambiguous. "Oh – Shizune wants me to tell you that she would be delighted to accept you as a Council member." Shizune paused to straighten her glasses, which Hisao took to be the deaf equivalent of clearing one's throat. "On a probationary basis, of course, until we better... what's that word? Spell it. Ascer-what? Okay: until we make sure that you're right for the job."

"Sounds good to me," Hisao replied. "By the way, since you're showing me around, perhaps you could point me to the library on our way back to class?"

"Of course! Anything for my junior Council member! Wahaha!"

* * *

Hisao was feeling very pleased with himself for the rest of that day, and for most of the next morning too: it seemed that he'd read Shizune very well, even though she was the one who was supposed to be analysing him. Still, there was the issue of how to get at the other girls while Shizune and Misha were around: not only did they like to keep tabs on him but their personalities were anathema to Hanako who would take every possible opportunity to slip from the room. Indeed, on the second day Hanako wasn't even there. Hisao hoped he hadn't scared her off by joining forces with the Council.

However, the solution to Hisao's quandary soon presented itself – in the form of Misha, no less, who ambushed him at break much as she had the previous day. "Hicchan! It's okay if I call you that, isn't it?" Hisao opened his mouth to say that he'd prefer it if she didn't, but the conversational bulldozer that was Misha couldn't be stopped by such weak resistance. "We, the senior members of the Student Council, need you to do something for us! As you should be aware, you've joined us just before the school festival and we will require your aid in setting up the stalls. Here's a list of the things we need you to get for us. A list?" This last was directed at Shizune, who longsufferingly handed a scrap of paper to Misha. "Oh, right! Here you go, Hicchan."

He took a look at the items. "Wood boards and paint? Do you guys have a Design Technology department here?"

"I don't think so. Do we?" Shizune stared at Misha in a way that needed no translation. "No, no we don't. So where should he get it from? Oh, right! Yes, Sir Hicchan, you shall valiantly venture forth unto the Room that is Called Art and there procure for us these items! Make it so! Wahahaha!" The look on Shizune's face at Misha's display mirrored the thoughts in Hisao's head, but that is where they stayed.

"Right. And where do you want me to move these items?"

"Uh." Signing happened. "Please be so kind as to deposit them in the Student Council room. Shicchan and I have some other business to attend to just now, but we'll join you in the art room shortly and help you move them- wait, we have to help? What's the point of having a big burly man around if we delicate girls then have to help out with the heavy lifting?" Shizune gave Hisao a tired look and a sideways nod which translated universally as 'You get going – dealing with this one could take all day.' He gratefully took the hint and left.

Hisao soon found the art room. He couldn't hear any activity within and so assumed that it was fine to enter – and then he saw her, sat on a counter by the window, a loaded fork halfway to her mouth. Being held between her toes. While Hisao's immediate attention was captured by that, his hindbrain noticed that she was wearing a boy's uniform, the sleeves of which were tied just below the shoulder.

The two of them paused, forming a strange tableau in the afternoon light that filtered through the slightly dusty windows.

"You can talk, you know," said the redhead. "I won't eat you." She then proceeded to eat whatever was on her fork, presumably in lieu of Hisao.

"Yes, right. Sorry." Hisao didn't know what he was apologising for, but it seemed the right thing to do. "Um, I've been sent here to get some supplies."

"You're new here, aren't you?" the girl asked through half a mouthful of food.

"Yeeees...?"

"Thought so. You don't have the Mark on you yet."

Hisao blinked in alarm. Was this some demonic thing that Akira hadn't told him about? "Mark? What mark?"

Rin swallowed lethargically. "Mine. I like to mark the people that I collect. Like this." She drew a small circle in the air with her fork, a little symbol inside that and then thrust the fork forward as though pushing the mark onto Hisao. "Of course, there's only any point in me collecting you if I can figure out what's wrong with you."

"Yamaku accepts people without disabilities, you know," Hisao reminded her. Rin appeared not to notice, scanning him with intense eyes.

"...Eeyup. I know what it is. The problem is in your chest."

Hisao blinked. "What?"

"The pattern on that sweatervest is horrible," said Rin lackadaisically, devouring another forkful. "Your fashion sense is clearly crippled beyond all repair."

Hisao looked down: he'd left a few too many buttons at the top of his shirt undone. Well, it had been a hot day. But something didn't match up.

"You said 'in your chest', not on it," Hisao pointed out.

"Yesterday I said 'in the table' when I meant on it," said Rin, making an odd movement that Hisao later worked out was a shrug. "Considering that time and space are relative to the observer, what does position mean in relation to an object that cannot see? To our knowledge, anyway. Do you think that tables can see?"

"Have you tried asking one?" Hisao quipped, knowing a fruitless avenue of conversation when he saw one.

"I have, as it happens," Rin rambled on airily, Hisao's withering sarcasm pinging off the armour of Rin's obliviousness. "I asked a table that very question just the other day. It didn't answer me, though. Or at least, it didn't answer me in a way that I could understand. Do you think perhaps tables are on a higher level of existence and that their extrusions into this reality appear to us as inanimate simply because we're incapable of viewing objects in four or more dimensions?"

"Look, could I please bring this back to the issue of the supplies?" asked Hisao, despairing at ever leaving this room with his sanity intact. "I need some wood and paint for Student Council business."

"Down the back there," said Rin, gesturing with her fork. Offering up a silent thank-you to whatever gods were listening, Hisao went to organise the supplies into piles that Shizune and Misha could easily carry. He stalled the process as long as possible hoping that the Council would arrive and save him from any further discussions with the unnecessarily long-winded girl still partaking of her lunch on the other end of the room: thankfully, they did just that.

"Wahaha!" Shizune would never need a trumpet herald with Misha in her vanguard. "We have arrived! How's it going, Hicchan?"

"It seems everything we need is right here,"said Hisao. "Say, who is that girl?"

"Hm? Oh, that's Rin," said Misha, looking back over her shoulder to see. What Shizune made up for in powers of observation, Misha lacked. "She's a bit... weird. I don't think she has a mental disorder – at least, nothing diagnosable, or else Yamaku wouldn't have taken her. She's helping out in the school festival too: painting a big wall mural, wouldn't you know it."

"Good place for a mural," said Hisao dryly. Despite her deafness, Shizune clearly heard the loud 'whoosh' of the joke going over Misha's head.

"What? Anyway, you take the heaviest and we refined young ladies shall take whatever our delicate constitutions may allow."

Shizune immediately went for the biggest paint pots and hefted them at Hisao as if daring him to do better. Hisao got the distinct feeling that these two were definitely going to put him through his paces over the next few days.

"My other name's Tezuka, by the way," said Rin casually, as if to the air as Hisao was leaving.

"Oh! Sorry, I would've asked you, but... you're kind of difficult to talk to."

Rin nodded, as though this was par for the course. "I get that a lot. Not everyone says it as straightforwardly as that, though. I have a habit for being blunt too. Perhaps we'll get along. Who can say?"

Hisao shrugged his heap of wood. "The gods themselves?"

"Certain ones of them, maybe. We'll see. Goodbye for now, Hisao."


	5. Divine Intervention

Shizune and Misha were constantly busy over the next few days, which meant that Hisao was too. This was a problem: if he'd thought he had any chance of furthering developments with Shizune then this would've been a godsend but she was far too no-nonsense for that; doing anything with Shizune was far out of the question, at least until the festival when even a workaholic like her might let herself relax. Hisao needed to press the attack on other fronts, and at the moment the closest front was Hanako. However, despite being so close she was proving devilishly difficult to get to, mostly because of the barrier provided by Shizune and Misha and their mountains of work. Getting them to leave him alone was going to prove difficult, but as it turned out there was a guardian angel watching over him.

Another breaktime began and, as per usual, the Student Council attempted to rope Hisao in to help build the stalls. However, as they were attempting to do so, something happened.

"Hanako? Are you there?"

Some folks in the class looked around, especially those who recognised her voice, Misha among them. When she spotted the vision at the door Misha looked genuinely torn about whether she should inform Shizune about their guest. Hisao, however, could only wonder why she looked so strangely familiar – and not because he'd seen her in pictures.

Hanako, whom Hisao had noticed to be waiting at the back of the class rather than dashing off as soon as the bell rang, timidly approached the tall, ladylike blonde at the door.

"I- I'm here, Lilly."

Lilly smiled. Out of all the notable smiles Hisao had seen so far, this was the warmest and most genuine: none of Emi's loud energy, none of Akira's... whatever it was Akira had. It was a simple gesture of happiness, displayed for all the world to see.

Unfortunately this part of the world included Shizune, who had turned around by this point and seen Lilly. Misha winced slightly at the glare that Shizune gave Lilly: if looks could kill, Lilly would have been a red smear on the wall. As she was, though, Lilly was incapable of knowing how anyone was staring at her, or indeed what a stare looked like, so Shizune had to find other ways to make her ire known. She gestured to Misha and rose from her seat with the air of a general preparing for battle.

"I can't say I'm surprised to see you here, Miss Satou," said Misha. Despite the apparent venom in her words Misha wasn't delivering them with great conviction – a fact that Shizune attempted to rectify by turning to her and signing furiously.

Hisao could see the pause as Lilly registered the new voice. She didn't seem surprised, though – indeed, the sigh she then gave suggested a certain expectant weariness of the situation.

"Hello, Misha. And Shizune." It was the slightest of pauses, but putting off Shizune's name by just a millisecond was enough to stoke the fires. Hisao saw Shizune adjust her glasses. Shit, as they say, had just got real.

"Enjoying yourself here, lo- what? Spell that for me. Lolly..."

"I think she means lollygagging," Hisao suggested, lest this spelling lesson go on forever.

"Ah, thanks Hicchan!" said Misha in her usual bubbly voice. She then turned to Lilly and assumed the sternest demeanour she could muster, which compared to Shizune's was as a two-bar electric heater is to the sun. "Enjoying lollygagging around in someone else's classroom when you no doubt have work to be getting on with in your own, Miss Satou?"

"You needn't fear, Shizune, I will have the paperwork in on time," said Lilly, her voice never rising beyond calm, measured speech. "Speaking of which, shouldn't the Student Council President be getting on with her own work instead of haranguing her colleagues?" It was a subtle jab in comparison to Shizune's vicious onslaught, but it produced a telling blow.

"Subordinates should do as they're told, and right now you're wasting precious time that could be better-used working for the Academy! Why, Hicchan – sorry – Hisao here has been working hard every day helping with the festival, while you-!"

"Yeah, about that," Hisao interrupted, sensing an opening and leaping for it, "I think I deserve a day off from Student Council work."

The mood of the entire argument – and the entire room, since it was loud enough that most of them were watching – shifted. To Shizune, it no doubt seemed as though she'd been betrayed by her own back line: to lose ground over such an issue to someone that she had just implied was her own subordinate would be a massive loss of face in front of Lilly. Hisao had to play this carefully or else risk losing Shizune entirely.

"What do you mean, Hicchan?" This question, unexpectedly, came from Misha herself: Shizune was apparently too busy seething with rage to form a coherent sentence. "We need you now most of all!"

"That's why I'm asking for just one day off," said Hisao smoothly. "I've built a deal more stalls than either of you two, I think it's fair to say, and to be frank I'm aching all over. If I strain or pull something I'll be out of action for a good few days and then I'll be of absolutely no use to you at all."

"Sometimes, being kind really doesn't require cruelty." Lilly smiled beatifically.

Hisao pressed the attack, knowing that he had to carry the momentum all the way: he looked directly at Shizune with the most conciliatory look he could manage. "Now I'm not saying I'm going to stop: I promise I'll come back and help you tomorrow as always, but I think it would be in both our interests if you were to let me off for now."

"And from what I've heard Mister Nakai here has been working exceedingly hard despite only having joined our school recently," said Lilly, providing some much-needed back-up. "Surely he is under no obligation, especially since he must be finding it difficult enough just to find his feet in a new school? Indeed, the mere fact that he has volunteered to help you despite being new is, I think, a display of outstanding generosity on his part."

Hisao had to feel sorry for Shizune. She clearly didn't want to give way on this, but it was just as clear that everyone in the room apart from her own self felt that forcing Hisao to work would be unspeakably Draconian. Hisao and Lilly had played the situation masterfully between them: there was only one answer that Shizune could give.

"Fine."

Shizune returned to her seat facing away from Lilly, wanting nothing more to do with anyone or anything for a good few minutes. Misha grimaced: in the absence of anyone else she was going to have to be Shizune's sympathetic ear, and that ear was going to be bent until it broke if the black stormcloud over her head was anything to go by. Hisao was only too glad to cross the room to the side of light and tranquillity.

"Miss Satou, would you mind if I accompanied you and Hanako?"

The smile broadened. "Not at all, Hisao. And please, call me Lilly."

"It'd be a pleasure, Lilly. Were the two of you plann-?"

The reason for this interruption was a short yet highly speedy young woman in pigtails and legblades barrelling into Hisao as he entered the corridor. Lilly was dismayed and uncertain as she knew something had happened from Hisao's speech being cut off and Hanako drawing closer to her but was unable to tell in an instant exactly what. Shizune, on the other hand, was very much aware of the situation: she rose again like the wrath of gods, the hard glint in her eyes forecasting some heavy smiting in an extremely localised area.

Hisao opened his eyes, cradling the back of his head.

"You!" said Emi in surprise.

"You!" Hisao echoed in even more surprise.

"You!" Misha declaimed, advancing on Emi in stride with Shizune. Hisao saw the rapid, powerful and clinically precise movements of Shizune's hands as she relayed the Will of the Council to her spokeswoman: she could probably have turned a sheet of steel into a string of little metal men with fingers like that.

"Oh dear," said Lilly, holding Hanako's head to her shoulder and rubbing it soothingly.

"Do you have ANY idea how dangerous that was? You, young lady, are a serious liability for this Academy: the rules we have set in place aren't just for our own amusement, they are there to safeguard Shicchan please slow down!"

"Don't worry; I'm fine," said Hisao, bashfully allowing himself to be helped up by Emi. "No harm done. See?"

"I really am sorry," said Emi sheepishly. "I was only running because a teacher needed me to run an errand for them across the campus before break ended. He picked me because he knows I can go fast."

"That is still no excuse!" Shizune continued through Misha, adamant not to let this go. "How would you have felt if you'd hurt Hicch- Hisao?"

"Well, bad, obviously, but since he's okay can I get back to my errand? I promise I'll walk until I'm outside," Emi added quickly.

"..." Mount Shizune rumbled frighteningly a few times, but it seemed as though the larger volcanic event had been averted. "Very well, as long as you've learned your lesson."

"I'll prove I'm sorry with lunch tomorrow, if you like," said Emi, beaming at Hisao. "Nice pecs, by the way."

"Uh, sure. And thanks."

"See you on the roof!" Emi bounded away – and then immediately slowed to a walking pace, albeit a fast one.

"Well, that was eventful," Lilly remarked as the three of them left the aftermath that was Class 3-3 behind. "After all that I'll be surprised if there's any time left to eat."

"Oh, I'm sure there will be," said Hisao, doing his best to sound jocular. In truth, though, his heart was pounding, and not because Emi had complimented his musculature. Although the girl had pretty much headbutted him directly in the heart he was still perfectly fine.

Under his shirt the sweatervest slowly returned to normal, its rock-hard weave softening to cloth again. It would take far more than that to penetrate the armour of Diablo's Chosen.


	6. And I Must Apologise

"I must apologise for the palaver back there," said Lilly softly. Really, there was no other way to talk in this room: far from the madding crowd of Class 3-3, this room was a little island of peace in the otherwise bustling main building of Yamaku.

"That's quite all right," said Hisao. He wondered how often he used the word 'quite', and then wondered whether Lilly's refined manner was getting to him. "Your support was indispensable: I don't know if I could have handled Shizune on my own."

"Yes, that child has... always been a handful," said Lilly hesitantly, finding a tactful way of putting it. "As you may have guessed we have some history, but I don't wish to address that now. For the moment, I need some tea. Hanako, would you please be a dear?"

Hanako made a small noise of acquiescence that wasn't quite a word and rose from her seat. Hisao was surprised to see that there was a table on the other side of the room already fully laid with all the provisions one could possibly need for tea-making, including a very handsome bone china set.

"Um, w- would you, like some too? We- We usually have Earl Grey..."

"That'll be fine, thanks," said Hisao, giving Hanako as kind a smile as he knew how. Hanako nodded and set about the preparations.

Lilly cut in. "Actually, sorry to be pernickety, but could I possibly persuade you to partake in something a little different? I do love sharing a cosy hot cup of lapsang souchong tea."

"Not at all, go ahead."

"Thank you. I hope you don't mind, Hanako."

"Th- That's all r- right."

Hisao felt slightly out of his depth here. He looked up, wondering whether there might not be a large rainbow banner hovering above their heads displaying the words 'Tea and Manners'. Sadly, there was no such banner.

"Here're the sandwiches I was able to snaffle from the cafeteria. We turned up a little late, so I wasn't able to get what you asked for."

"Oh, I'm sure we can make do." Lilly smiled pleasantly. Hisao wondered idly how many demons she could banish with that single angelic smile. "Would you please read out the selection?"

"What? Oh, of course – sorry."

Lilly tutted playfully. "Still not used to how things are here?"

"It's taking a bit of getting used to, yes," Hisao admitted, adopting a self-effacing manner.

"Although I've heard from Hanako that you were quite up-front about your own condition. Your ears should be red, the way she's been going on about you," said Lilly, modestly hiding her mirthful smile with a hand: there was a certain element of teasing in her voice that caused Hanako to turn around looking appalled.

"Li- Lilly!" she almost squealed in perturbation, the boiling of the electric kettle introducing a serendipitous element of pathetic fallacy. "I said not to mention that!"

"I'm sorry Hanako dear, I simply couldn't resist." Lilly chuckled mischievously.

"Well, erm, I don't know what I've done to warrant such praise..."

"I've already done enough damage, I'm sure," said Lilly, still grinning widely. "If you want to learn more you'll have to talk to Hanako herself. Although, to get back to the previous topic, you don't have to apologise for such things. You'll get used to them as you acclimatise, I'm sure. It's just how life is here at Yamaku."

"I'll bear that in mind."

"Please do." Lilly allowed her smile to relax to its natural state. As the sun came out from behind a brief cloud it streamed through the window and illuminated Lilly, her golden hair suffusing the air around her head with a sublime glow. Hisao almost felt sorry that he was going to have to take this delightful creature's soul.

"Oh, by the by – I feel awful to impose upon you like this Hisao, but the simple fact of the matter is that I'm in dire need of a hand."

"You can have two, depending on the nature and urgency of your request," said Hisao, wondering if his wit could possibly be any more sparkling. "What's the matter?"

"Today's my weekly grocery run. Hanako normally accompanies me on these trips, but she's behind on her work and absolutely cannot skip out on her homework tonight." Hisao looked to Hanako for confirmation: she nodded sheepishly. "Could I possibly prevail upon you to take her place, just for tonight?"

Hisao's imagination ran wild with the possibilities of that last sentence but he answered maturely. "It'd be my pleasure."

Lilly breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Hisao. I felt awful springing this on you at such short notice, especially only an hour after we've become acquainted."

On the edge of Hisao's tongue was the question: was Lilly incapable of going to the shops on her own? He guessed not as he'd seen her use her white cane quite effectively to navigate her way to this room, but even so he didn't want to imagine what it would be like venturing into the outside world without being able to see all the things that might possibly collide with you.

Instead, he said "So, do you have a particular time and place to rendezvous? Or would you prefer my number so you can let me know at your own convenience?" It was a bit of a gamble, but worth a punt.

"I normally just knock on Hanako's door to ask if she's ready, so, yes, swapping numbers may be the wiser option." Score.

* * *

Hisao got ready for his outing with Lilly. On the basis that he was accompanying a blind lady, he wore his sweatervest over his shirt. It felt nice to touch, which he felt would count for more. Hisao then played the game of self-mindfuckery known as 'Should I call her or wait for her to call me?' He decided to take the initiative.

"I'll be ready shortly. Wait at the gate for me: I'll be down directly."

Hisao did that thing. Lilly turned up a few minutes later. Although her clothes were very understated – almost bland, going by choice of colour – Hisao had to admit, that top did do a superb job of covering up her natural assets completely and modestly whilst still showing off their size to full advantage. Hisao wondered for a moment whether Lilly was actually blind. Perhaps it'd been chosen for her?

"Hey Lilly."

Lilly did the thing that she does when picking up a new entrant to the conversation: slight pause, tilt of the head, ear towards whomever just spoke. She instantly put on her best smile. "Hello, Hisao. Once again, I must thank you for accompanying me at such short notice."

"That's fine, I needed to do some shopping too. Can't survive on cafeteria food forever, however much I might want to." Lilly picked up the subtle hint of sarcasm and laughed. Like her smile, Lilly's laugh was very soft but very genuine.

"Yes, I've been thinking recently of putting forward a proposal to the Council. Or perhaps 'doing battle with' is a more appropriate phrase. Shall we set off?"

"Let's." For a while, Hisao simply enjoyed the pre-evening breeze and the setting rays. Lilly seemed entirely unhurried in both pace and manner... very much like someone else, it occurred to Hisao. "So, Lilly..."

"Yes?"

"I'll trade you a story for a story. How did you come to be at Yamaku? I'm guessing you're not from around here, with those looks and that accent."

Lilly laughed. "My, my, so candid. Lesser women might have taken offense to such speech."

Hisao shrugged, realised there was no point in doing that in Lilly's presence, and then did it again to shut himself up. "I feel there's no point in beating about the bush."

"Yes, as your introduction speech proved; Hanako told me about it. But to answer your question yes, I am indeed a foreigner, or half of a one anyway: my mother is Scottish."

"Ooooh. So you speak English?"

"Speak, read and write, yes, although not as you would, obviously." Lilly's pleasant smile did not waver for a second. "As for how I came to be here specifically, well..." This time, Lilly allowed her face to darken somewhat. "Our family has... experienced some difficulties. My parents left a while ago to pursue business opportunities in Scotland, but for one reason and another, mostly my upbringing and education, Akira and I were-"

Hisao almost jumped out of his skin. "Akira?"

Lilly blinked as though being shaken out of a reverie. It seemed that, in her recollections, she'd missed Hisao's trip halfway into space. "What? Oh, sorry: Akira's my older sister, I should've mentioned." Hisao desperately wanted to confirm his suspicions – after all, it could just be another Akira, it wasn't as if Japan had only one – but it would be difficult to do that without arousing Lilly's own. He had to try and draw Lilly out about her sister in an innocuous fashion; gain more details to see if they matched. "We ended up staying here so that I could continue my schooling while Akira worked to support us. My parents offered to pay for our keep, but Akira..." Lilly bit her lip.

"So, uh, what does Akira do?" asked Hisao, figuring that it was an innocent enough question.

"She's a lawyer, from what she tells me," said Lilly lightly. "Lives in the nearby city. Very busy so she doesn't often have time to spend with us, but she manages to put aside some time for birthdays and other special occasions."

No useful details there. "Wow, a lawyer? The suit, tie, briefcase and everything, like a salaryman?" Hisao added a slightly jokey tone to this, which thankfully worked: Lilly seemed to brighten up a bit.

"Yes, as it happens. In fact, my sister seems to have an unnatural attraction to suits: if memory serves she has a whole closet in her house dedicated to suits alone. But then, I've heard people say on many occasions that she looks somewhat like a man, especially with that short haircut she likes to sport, so perhaps it isn't all bad."

Oh snap. Hisao was trying to steal the soul of the sister of the enforcer whose job it was to enforce his ass into a million pieces if he did not get that soul by year's end. This made matters decidedly... problematic. A phone call was in order, but that could come later.

"So, a story for a story, I do believe," said Lilly, her pleasant smile once again up and running.

"Oh, right. Well." Hisao squared himself. "I was born and raised in the city, nothing particularly remarkable about my childhood. Can't say I had any great bust-ups with my parents or anything, although they did seem to be away a lot of the time, since they both worked." Lilly nodded: of course she'd sympathise. "Mostly I passed the time with friends, at the arcade or playing football, but I can't say I felt particularly close to any of them. And then one day, I..." Hisao swallowed. For all his talk of honesty, some wounds cut too deep.

"Are you all right, Hisao?" Lilly enquired, sounding slightly worried. Hisao remembered himself: Lilly couldn't see so she had no way of telling whether Hisao had just paused mid-sentence or was having a cardiac arrest right in front of her.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just a bit more difficult talking about this than I'd realised. The long and the short of it, though, is that my heart gave way, I spent a good few months in hospital in... well, it felt like hibernation or suspended animation, except that I was awake for most of it. Passed the time reading, mostly. And then I ended up here, feeling as though I'd died and been reborn as a totally new person." This wasn't a million miles away from the truth. Lilly nodded again, fortunately oblivious to the true meaning of that statement.

"Your condition forced you to leave your whole life behind," said Lilly as kindly as she could (which was pretty darn kindly).

"Pretty much. I kid myself sometimes that I still have ties to the folks I used to know, but... eh. There's nothing left to say. I didn't even have a whole lot to say in the first place, to be honest."

Hisao looked up at the sky, watching as the first stars of night became visible through the blue-purple-black gradient of the world's ceiling.

"I've had the feeling for most of my life that I'm just kinda spinning my wheels, waiting for life to start. It'd be a bit ironic if it took a near-death experience to make me start living, huh?"

Lilly blinked. "Hisao..."

Hisao looked off into the sunset. Vivid streaks of colour splashed across the ragged woollen canvas of clouds: burst orange, burnt ochre, blaze magenta and Misha pink. They mixed and merged in a seamless symphony of natural splendour, Brahms's Fifth Symphony in visual form: at times happy, even triumphant, but with a strong feeling of sadness running throughout, as though these present glories could not possibly last forever.

"...I wish you could see this sunset," said Hisao, almost muttering.

They stood in silence for a good few seconds, Lilly with her eyes open as though willing her sight back – but she was facing in Hisao's direction, not the sun's.

And then, just like that, the magic passed. "Oh dear. We've stopped walking, haven't we?" Lilly chuckled to herself.

"Yeah, seems so," said Hisao, reciprocating the self-conscious laughter. "We'd better get a move-on if we want to be back in time."  
"Indeed." Lilly paused delicately. "...You may take my arm, if you wish."

Hisao couldn't help but let out a single laugh at this quaint, old-world mannerism. Lilly's smile only grew warmer. Looking at that smile, Hisao reflected that such manners suited Lilly perfectly. He played the role admirably.

"I do so wish, milady." And off they walked, arm-in-arm.

Sadly, Brahms only wrote four symphonies.


	7. Black Barrister

The rest of that evening passed in restful contentment. Although they were engrossed in the practical mundanities of grocery shopping it was clear the whole time that Hisao had played Lilly's heartstrings like a – well, like a stringed instrument of your choice. Although Hisao was greatly pleased with how proceedings were developing on that front, there was still a certain issue to be resolved. After Hisao had said his goodbyes to Lilly in front of the dorms, he retreated to his room to make a phone call. Or, at least, he tried to, but as he was opening his door...

"Hisao! Hisao, my man, that is you, isn't it?"

Hisao wondered whether Kenji's eyesight was so bad that he could just slip soundlessly into his room and leave Kenji thinking he'd been seeing things.

"Ah, it IS you!" Damn. "My good man, I've been hearing disturbing things about you! Apparently you've joined forces with those harridans in the Student Council?"

Hisao decided to go on the offensive: he urgently needed to make that call and playing passively could only prolong this tortuous experience. "Only as a means of reconnaissance, comrade: by planting myself as a sleeper agent in the nerve-centre of their operations, I can keep you informed of any alarming developments."

Kenji reacted favourably to this, rubbing his hands in a way that made Hisao picture him as a stereotypical 1920s villain. "Ah, well played sir! Position to destroy the enemy from within, yes, very wise. Just be careful though that you do not fall prey to their lascivious charms: these females will indubitably stop at nothing to enslave you." Hisao had difficulty containing the words 'lascivious charms' and 'Shizune' in his head simultaneously but pressed on regardless.

"Fear not, Kenji: there is too much at stake here for me to let down my guard so easily." Loath though he was to get anywhere nearer to the strange hermit, Hisao felt the need to place his hand on Kenji's shoulder as a sergeant might on his subordinate's shoulder, just to complete the illusion. The fact that there really _was_ a lot at stake here, for Hisao at least, made it easy for him to sound convincing.

"I shan't worry," said Kenji, taking hold of Hisao's hand with his own in what he probably imagined was a gesture of brotherly cameraderie, but which actually made Hisao feel like washing his hands as soon as possible. "I can see you've got your head screwed on right, soldier: it was a bright day for Yamaku Academy when you strolled through those gates. Continue on and let me know if you dig up anything of use, okay?"

"Aye-aye." Hisao felt the urge to salute, but decided it might be just a little bit too over the top. "See you when I do."

"Right, goodbye for now."

Hisao marched through his open door with his head held high and chest thrust out, closed it behind him and immediately deflated against the wall. Why oh why had he been given the singularly most annoying dorm-mate in the entire universe? Still, there were more important things to focus on now: Hisao pulled out his phone and called Akira.

The first sound Hisao heard upon the call being accepted was an explosion, very loud and very close. As the phone was raised to Akira's ear Hisao heard orders being yelled out, death-threats in various languages and bullets flying in equal measure.

"Heeey, Hisao m'boy. How's it going?" Akira sounded as though Hisao had just caught her having a brewskie on the beach.

"Uh – Akira? Is this a bad time?" asked Hisao, the colour draining from his face.

"There could be worse times. What's up?" This last sounded a bit distracted as though Akira was concentrating on something else. The report of a semi-automatic assault rifle rang out close to the phone: in the distance a cry of agony followed.

"Yeah, uh, it's about one of the girls I'm supposed to capture. You didn't tell me-"

"Just a sec, they've surrounded me." There was a soft clunk as Akira laid down the phone, followed by what could only be the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath. The next few seconds were a confusing cacophony of gunshots, screams of terror and pain and dull thuds that sounded not entirely unlike bodies and their dismembered parts hitting the floor. Hisao stood there listening to it, partly out of want for anything else to do but also because he was simply stunned by the sonic ultraviolence being channelled to him through the phone.

The noises stopped very abruptly: the only sounds echoing out in the deafeningly silent aftermath were a few spent shell-casings tinkling onto the floor. There was a strange 'whoosh' noise followed by a spattering of what Hisao could only assume to be blood, then the quick slide-and-stop of a blade being sheathed. Stiddaroli footsteps walked back towards the phone.

"Hey, sorry about that," said Akira. There was an audible crack as of someone working out a crick in their neck. "It's been a busy day at the office."

"...So I heard," said Hisao, pulling himself out of his stunned reverie.

"But yeah. Out with it, boy, what do you want?"

Hisao swallowed. "It's about Lilly."

"Oh, my sister?" said Akira jovially. "You've met her?"

"She's on the list."

The silence that followed felt to Hisao a million times more dangerous than the violence that had immediately preceded it.

"...I was afraid this might happen." Pause. "Hisao, I need to talk to you in person: this is not a discussion we can have over the phone. I'm a bit far away at the moment, but I'll be back in Japan by tomorrow. Can you meet me on the roof after your classes are done?"

"Sure." Hisao felt his lips almost cracking from how dry they were. "...You're not angry with me, are you?"

"Oh, I'm angry all right, but not at you." Akira laughed, her light tone re-establishing itself. "You have nothing to fear from me, boy: killing you – at least, before you complete your contract – would be more than my job's worth. Not to mention, now that I've learned this..."

This silence lasted a couple of seconds. "Akira?"

"Hm? Oh, right. So yeah, like I said: meet me on the roof of the main building after school tomorrow. I'll make you privy to some facts that I felt you didn't need to know before." Off in the distance, an alarm sounded: the sound of running footsteps pounded through the corridors. Akira chuckled. "I'd better get going: ain't no rest for the wicked, as they say. See you soon, Hisao."

"All right... have fun," he added weakly.

Akira seemed to appreciate the gesture. "When do I not?" she replied wickedly.

_beeeeeeeeeee..._


	8. Primal Clash

The next day started off with a fun-filled first period which consisted of Shizune silently simmering and occasionally casting dirty looks at Hisao. Eventually she became too focused on work to keep it up, much to the relief of Hisao, Misha and even Mutou himself, but Hisao knew he would still have to face the music sooner or later. He opted for later, dashing out of the room as soon as class was dismissed excusing himself with a hurried 'Igottagodosomething'. He didn't see the look on Hanako's face when he did this.

Hisao stepped out onto the roof. It was quite relaxing up here: much like Hanako and Lilly's tearoom it was somewhat removed from the places the rest of the students liked to frequent during lunch hour so it was nice and quiet. The wind blew a gentle breeze across an azure-ish sky dotted with big fluffy clouds that looked like legless, headless sheep. So, not much like sheep, really.

Hisao looked around to see if anyone was there. There appeared to be someone collapsed on the floor but, on closer inspection, Hisao found that it was in fact just Rin being Rin.

"Hello you."

Rin shifted her eyes over slightly to look at Hisao, as though the sky was infinitely more interesting than any possible conversation Hisao could present. Then again, she always looked like that regardless of what situation she was in. "Hello you too. I see you're being relative again."

Hisao was in a fairly good mood, so he took a seat and indulged Rin's harebrained chatter. "Isn't everything?"

"No," Rin answered abruptly, with certainty and clarity that was unlike her. "Certain things are absolute. Like me, for instance. There is only one Rin."

"Unless they cloned you."

"Even then, those alternate versions of myself would have different experiences of the world. Even if they were created as perfect copies of me in every way, their forms and their beings would eventually diverge from mine, because of-" Rin swang her legs around so that she was sitting up and stared fixedly at Hisao. "-position."

Hisao gave her an appreciating look. "That was an acrobatic way of assuming a new position. Although the seat of your pants may have suffered for it."

Rin shrugged. "They can be replaced. I cannot."

Hisao was unsure of how to answer this, so he ignored it. "Did Emi say when she was going to arrive? I thought she'd be here."

"That cloud," said Rin contemplatively, looking past Hisao's shoulder, "looks just like a cloud." So the ignorer became the ignored.

Once again, Hisao prayed to whatever gods were listening that someone would come and save him from the waking nightmare that was Rin's company – thankfully, at least one of them must have been listening. A clattering at the stairs heralded Emi's arrival: she bounded through the door, spotted the two of them having their highly enjoyable conversation and smiled her way over. Emi's smile was so bright that she really could power her locomotion with its energy alone.

"Hello you guys! Hope I didn't keep you too long."

"No, not at all," said Hisao faintly. The aeroplane of implied sarcasm leaving from Hisao's mouth navigated its way over and between the twin peaks of Emi's head and landed safely on the other side. Whether Rin registered it was not a matter for mortal men to know, for she was still staring at the sky. Hisao wondered idly what – if anything – she was searching for, but would rather have cut out his tongue than ask.

"Here's the lunch I promised you," said Emi, this time her smile one of pride as she handed lunchboxes to her friends.

"It looks good," said Hisao, at first tentatively peeking under the lid just in case something leapt at him trying to claw its way to freedom. This wasn't such an unlikely occurrence in the Burning Hells.

"Thanks! I made it myself." Aaah, so that's why she'd been smiling like that. Still, it was good: wasn't a handmade lunch supposed to be one of the most telling indicators that a girl likes you? Especially since Emi had specifically invited Hisao up here in advance.

"Well, it tastes good."

"Oh, thank goodness! It's my lunch from yesterday." Ah. Hisao wondered whether there was any way in which he could now decline this lunch without being extremely impolite. He decided not and soldiered on: one of the duties of a gentleman is to eat a woman's cooking regardless of how much he might prefer not to, even should it lead to his death.

"So yeah. How often do you work out? When I smacked into you yesterday your chest was hard as steel."

Hisao froze momentarily. This didn't matter too much because he hadn't been moving to begin with, so it just ended up as a period of inactivity in between two other periods of inactivity. Both Emi and Rin were watching him with interest.

"Well," Hisao began eventually, "it was part of my physical therapy back in hospital. As you may already know I have a weak heart, so they had me do some light cardio when I could. However, I soon got bored with that and did weight training as well, which they let me do as much as I wanted as long as I didn't go overboard and put too much strain on my heart. After a while it just became a regular thing, I guess."

"Wooow," said Emi, clearly engrossed in Hisao's tale.

Hisao sighed inwardly. Bullshit bought.

"Wanna arm wrestle?"

Hisao de-sighed. "Sorry, what?"

Emi giggled like a naughty schoolgirl. Which she was, in a way. (Not THAT kind.) "My speciality may be running, but I'm a lot stronger than I look. Care to test me, Mister Muscles?"

"...Uh, okay." Hisao laid aside his lunch, unsure of what to expect.

"Great! Rin, you be referee."

Hisao glanced at Rin. The look on her face hadn't changed. Either she hadn't picked up on the irony of Emi's order or she was so overwhelmed with disbelief at how oblivious someone could be that she simply couldn't register a facial response. It was hard to tell with Rin. "C'mon, Hisao, get ready," said Emi, already crouched on the other side of the little bench, elbow down and ready to go.

"All right," said Hisao, taking his position opposite her. He squared up, put his hand in hers and...

"Rin!" said Emi in annoyed tone of voice.

"What?" she asked, staring distractedly at a seemingly empty patch of sky.

"You're supposed to say go!"

"Oh. Go?"

Emi instantly began pushing – Hisao took the strain without too much effort. As he'd thought, Emi's small frame couldn't support much power or leverage: at this rate she wouldn't win even if she threw her whole body into it.

Emi seemed to detect Hisao's lack of exertion and grimaced at him. "Don't think you've won just yet, mister!" Emi's push did indeed become stronger, forcing Hisao to push back. However, he noticed something strange happening: just when Hisao thought Emi didn't have any more strength to put in, her level would jump up – and whenever he rose to meet her, it would jump up again. It got to the point where Hisao literally had to use all of his strength just to keep Emi at the halfway point, never mind beating her back.

"We're not finished yet!" said Emi, her voice raw with exertion. Hisao seriously considered calling this off: he didn't care too much for his pride in losing to a girl, but he genuinely feared that Emi's drive to win might end up hurting her.

NO. IF DESTRUCTION CHOOSES TO DESTROY ITSELF IN A STRUGGLE IT CANNOT WIN, LET IT DO SO. WE ARE DIABLO'S CHOSEN. WE KNOW NO FEAR.

The words simply appeared in Hisao's head, no discernable medium having carried them to him: he was about to look around to see if anyone else was there when he felt something crawling along his shoulder and upper arm. It felt horribly as though his sweatervest was... growing. The girls couldn't see this under his shirt: only the subtlest of ripples in the fabric showed its progress to his wrist, where it stopped. Then, the tide began to turn.

The infernal sweatervest's silken cords wrapped tightly around Hisao's arm by degrees. With each tightening they formed another layer, weaving around each other, forming... tissues. Hisao realised what the sweatervest was doing: it was forming its own muscles around his arm, adding their power to his own. It wouldn't let up until it either won or was defeated: either way, stalling wasn't going to help Emi's chances of getting out of this without straining something. Hisao smiled grimly. "Well, I suppose I'd better take you seriously then, hadn't I?"

The sweatervest understood the order implied by this and let out a quick burst of weave-waves. Its artificial muscles now became very noticeable through Hisao's shirt, but with the help of a little overacting on Hisao's part it looked for all the world as though he was just extremely ripped and only now exerting his full strength.

The surge was too much for Emi: although she resisted until the end, whatever strange source had been powering her thus far realised what it was up against and shut down. The sweatervest would not be satisfied with anything less than a crushing victory and slammed Emi's hand down on the bench. Only then did it withdraw its power.

Even Rin was surprised by the intensity of the scene. Emi stood, cradling her hand – however, she was still smiling. Hisao looked up at her in wonder: this was a strange smile, a brittle one, unlike either the one he'd seen on the track or her habitual sunflowers-and-rainbows one. It frightened him.

"Wow. I guess you weren't kidding." Emi laughed hollowly.

Hisao stood as well, his face full of contrition. "I'm sorry Emi, I didn't mean to bang your hand down-"

Emi held up her other hand to stop him. "No. Don't apologise. I wanted you to take me seriously and you did. That's enough. Let's finish our lunches, shall we?"

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. Hisao made a mental note to ask Akira another question at their meeting that night.


	9. Lies, Damned Lies and Lawyers

Hisao tried to pack up his things quickly to be out of the door as soon as the last lesson ended. Unfortunately, Shizune wasn't one to be fooled twice: she already had Misha in position barring the door, only letting through anyone who wasn't Hisao.

"Sorry Hicchan," said Misha, sounding genuinely contrite. Shizune, on the other hand, looked anything but sorry – indeed, there was a sinister glint in her eyes as she rose from her desk to confront Hisao.

Hisao noticed Mutou looking on with a faint frown of concern, but he didn't seem too eager to intervene just yet. Still, Hisao felt a bit better knowing he'd have someone to back him up if Shizune went too far: Misha's loyalties were understandably divided in this case.

Shizune signed fiercely at Hisao. He waited for the translation, but none came.

"Misha?" he asked, looking around.

"What?"

Hisao realised what the problem was and stepped out of the way: now Misha could see Shizune. Sight tends to be a prerequisite for the successful use of sign language.

Shizune repeated herself: this time the translation was more forthcoming. "I – that is to say, Shicchan – am VERY disappointed in you, Junior Council Member. I thought you were a hard worker who understood the value of committing to a project, but it seems as though you've been doing nothing but slacking off these past two days."

Hisao's first instinct was to correct Shizune by saying 'not slacking – just directing my energy into other projects', but if he had any knowledge of the furious female's temperament talking down to her like that wasn't likely to result in a favourable exchange. He had to play this carefully and he had to make amends, one way or another.

"I know, and I apologise for breaking my promise," said Hisao kindly yet firmly, looking directly into Shizune's eyes: he needed to make as direct a link to her as possible, so going through Misha would have to be kept to the absolute minimum. "I said that I would only take one day, and to my knowledge at that time I would only need one. However, certain other things came up that I simply couldn't skip out on."

"Oh? Like what?" The reply shot back like the carriage return of a typewriter.

"As it happens I was just about to leave to discuss some important matters with a friend of mine. Personal matters," Hisao added, before Shizune could ask the obvious question. "I'm sorry to have shut you out like this, and I realise that this sounds contradictory to how I'm acting, but I need you to trust me."

Hisao realised that Shizune was shifting slightly, both her body and her eyes. He suspected that it might be a result of him staring at her so intently and so closely: since people normally talked to her through Misha it was unlikely that they ever gave Shizune their full attention when talking to her. Her signing was also less sharp, becoming slightly slower and hesitant.

"I can't just give you my trust like that, without condition."

Hisao smiled warmly and moved slightly closer: Shizune looked like she desperately wanted to step away but stared defiantly back at him, standing her ground.

"That's the only way you can trust. Placing your faith in someone is always a gamble, but it's a gamble one has to make. For example, when I asked to join the Student Council I placed my faith in you as the Council President. I trusted that the jobs you gave me to do were genuinely for the good of the student body and all those going to the festival and not once have I questioned that trust. I didn't ask for time off because I've stopped believing in you, Shizune: I simply have other commitments, other parts of my life that I need to see to besides Student Council work. It isn't as if I signed over my soul to you when I joined the Council – I still have other concerns," said Hisao, doing a good job of making a potentially angry statement in a lighthearted joke. He made the last change in tack that would seal the deal, both abating Shizune's anger and developing their relationship further. "But I can see that all this talk isn't making you feel any better, so how 'bout I make it up to you? There must be a cafe or restaurant in town: we can go there tomorrow, my treat. Would you like that?"

There was a loud gasp from behind Hisao no doubt emanating from an excited Misha, but he ignored that completely: every last scrap of his attention was focused on Shizune. She was definitely looking away from him now, something akin to embarrassment in her eyes, her face, the way her hands fidgeted – although she would rather have died on the spot than admit it, of course.

"Ooh! Ooh! We could go to the Shanghai! I love that place – they do the BEST parfaits there! Oh, and Shicchan says it'd be okay with her," said Misha.

Hisao put on his best charming smile. "Wonderful. I'll give you my number, just hang on a sec-" Hisao reached into his pocket and was extremely surprised when he felt a small rectangle of cardboard being pushed up into his fingers. He took it out to look at it.

A business card. The Blackheart had just given him a bloody business card (for all he knew the print on there was actually dyed blood). It even had a sparkly golden border, for crying out loud. This would make him look like a monumental douche, but he had to say that it was much smoother and stylish than the old 'give me your number oh wait I'm not ready yet okay my contacts are open just a second let me make a new one okay go' rigamarole that normally ensued such an encounter.

"Here," said Hisao, handing Shizune the card. "Send me a message whenever you feel like it." He leaned closer to Shizune as though whispering playfully to her but still had to say it loud enough for Misha to hear – Shizune's eyes went wide. "Now you can talk to me directly without drill-hair over there getting in the way."

"Hey!" protested Misha as she translated, although not with a great deal of venom.

"But I'm afraid I must go now. Only if I'm free to do so, of course." One last burst of charm...

Shizune made a dismissive gesture, turning her face away from Hisao instantly. Hisao knew what that meant: it was the movement of a girl confused and embarrassed beyond her immediate ability to process such emotions, desperate to get some critical distance and work things out. In other words he was back in Shizune's good books, or on the way there. Score.

"See you later!" Hisao slung his bag over his back and strolled out of the now Mishaless door. Wondering whether this was something she'd punish him for later, Hisao imitated Akira by doing her casual over-the-shoulder wave as he left.

There was silence in Class 3-3 for a good few seconds afterwards. Every single student still in that room was staring in wonderment at Shizune: she was doing her best to avoid all their gazes as she packed and made ready to leave, hastily gesturing for Misha to do the same.

Mutou was staring at Hisao's retreating back with a thoughtful look on his face.

...and, in the far back corner of the room, Hanako let out a silent sob, ignored by all.

* * *

"A business card? Really?"

"I just made you look cooler and that's the thanks I get?" asked the Blackheart in a bored, grating tone.

"You made me look like a douche."

The Blackheart let out a burst of static that Hisao realised was a laugh. "You don't need my help with that."

Hisao rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this. Put yourself on Silent."

"As you wish, Glorious Leader."

Hisao stepped out onto the roof for the second time that day. The sun was in the descendant, approaching the horizon in its stately fashion and all was strangely calm, the world covered in a soft orange filter.

Akira stood at the opposite end of the roof facing towards the sun, her hand at once holding the side of her face in a contemplative gesture and holding in place a cigarette that gently glowed embers into the balmy afternoon air. Her shadow was long and dark, its slender silhouette stretching away across the roof behind her. Despite the silent beauty of the scene, Hisao tried not to look too closely at Akira's shadow. Those who stared into the darkness for too long often found themselves seeing things that the light would never show; the darkness cast by an agent of Diablo is bound to be darker than most.

"Akira!"

Akira remained perfectly motionless, making Hisao wonder for a moment whether she'd heard him. However, as he reached a certain point between the door and Akira's position, Akira spoke, low and urgently.

"We're being watched."

"What?"

"Hisao, good to see you!" Akira suddenly raised her voice jovially and turned to him, spreading her arms welcomingly. "Glad you could make it."

Hisao sighed inwardly: so this whole meeting was to be a charade put on for a spy's benefit. He might as well act his part.

"Yeah, I got your message." He paused. "I must say, you look very different from Lilly."

Akira shrugged nonchalantly, cigarette throwing looping trails of smoke. "I get that a lot. Or Lilly gets told that she looks nothing like me, on the odd occasion that one of my colleagues sees her. Either way, that's not what I came to talk to you about."

"Your message was delivered kinda secretively," said Hisao. "I took it to mean that something important is up."

"Oh, it is – well, in a way. I'll tell you now." Akira took a drag and let it out towards Hisao. He was about to object to Akira's loutish behaviour when he saw, before his very eyes, the smoke cloud reshaping into a message:

_Stay right where you are. You're blocking their vision of these words. More to follow._

Hisao read them without tilting his head down: if he was blocking their vision, he reasoned, that meant they were watching from behind him. From the door?

"So yeah. I take it you are at least acquainted with Lilly?"

"I'd say we're on first-name terms, yes."

"Splendid. In that case, you could help me with a little something." Another drag, another cloud, another message.

_Shizune and Misha are watching us. Don't bother looking; you won't see them._

"I need you to try and find out for me – over the next few weeks, there's no rush – just what kind of presents she might like for her birthday this year."

Hisao was genuinely interested to hear this. "Oh, her birthday's that close?"

"Sure is. I feel kinda bad asking you to do this for me, actually, but the simple fact of the matter is that I'm so busy at work that I don't really have the time to gauge how Lilly's tastes might have changed." Akira put the ciggy back in between her lips, then paused thoughtfully. She smiled at a recollection, then laughed, letting the ciggy drop to her waist. "You know, I still remember that one Christmas where Lilly and I got... unusual presents from our parents. As a joke, they got a matching pair of dolls for us: I got a devil, Lilly got an angel. I was furious about it at the time, of course, but I guess I just proved their point." She chuckled again. "Lilly – bless her soul – tried to cheer me up by offering to swap the dolls or even destroy both of them, but I refused. Even if it was childish, I just couldn't help but spite our parents by playing the role, you know?" She shook her head nostalgically. "Kids. Ha. I'll be damned if I ever have any of my own, that's for sure."

Hisao felt as though his heart had turned to lead and cracked into two pieces, falling into each of his feet and rooting him in place. If what Akira said was true, Hisao's job had just become more difficult by a factor of a number so incredibly high that even Euclid would shrug and say 'beats me'.

"What a story Akira," said Hisao, injecting some false bored sarcasm into his voice in the hope that that would cover up his shock.

Akira grinned as though taking Hisao's jab in good humour. "Oh, let a lady reminisce, Hisao. Anyway, yeah, that's pretty much all I wanted to say. Think you could do that for me?"

"I'll give it my best shot," said Hisao, trying to sound as positive as he could under the circumstances.

"Cool, cool. Here's my number, by the way." Akira drew a business card from her pocket. It looked almost exactly the same as the one Hisao had given Shizune earlier. The Blackheart vibrated repeatedly in silent laughter. "Oh? Do you need to answer that?"

"Nah, probably just some more spam messages from my provider," said Hisao, accepting the card with a weary expression. "Thanks for this, by the way: I'll add you and send you a message later."

"Please do. Go on ahead if you like: I'll just stay up here and finish my smoke. I know the way out."

"All right, bye for now."

"Buh-bye."

Akira returned to the pose she'd first assumed upon Hisao's arrival. Hisao turned – and for a moment, saw something in the door: a strange shimmer in the air like a convection current, a mirage in the desert. It vanished as soon as he looked at it. Doing his best to act casual, Hisao left through that same door. He didn't see the shimmer again that day.

Akira remained on the rooftop, apparently lost in thought, still staring in the direction of the sun. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and said "It isn't polite to spy, Lilly. Don't tell me you're getting as bad as Shizune now."

Almost invisible against the sun's fading brilliance, a brighter point of light shifted and then flew down, disappearing from view. It almost looked like a falling star.

Akira sighed deeply. "For what it's worth, Hisao, I am genuinely sorry."


	10. Spot the Running Jokes

Hisao was roused the next morning by someone knocking very loudly and persistently on his door. "Hisao! I know you're in there! Come on out: I want to talk to you!" In a zombie-like state, Hisao dragged his unwilling limbs out of bed and shambled to the door.

When he opened it, Emi was there. Hisao had a number of possible reactions at this point: surprise, anger, fear, even lust. However, no matter how primal, all of these instincts were overridden by a far more powerful one: grouchiness.

He stared blearily at Emi, perhaps only a handful of neurons firing. "What."

Emi cupped a hand to her mouth, looking for all the world like a child who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought you'd be awake."

Hisao blinked a couple of times. His Snarky Comments Generator hadn't booted up yet, so he was forced to improvise. "Oh." His Improvisation Unit was also still warming up.

"I always get up around this time so I'll have time for my morning run, you see. Anyway, I wanted to tell you a couple of things..." Emi swallowed nervously. "Do you, um... mind if I come inside?"

Hisao sighed, sensing yet another potential joke soaring over Emi's head to be lost forever in the Scrap Pile of Comedy. "Yeah, sure."

Hisao stumbled back inside. Emi took a step in and shut the door behind herself, instantly leaning back against it. She kept fidgeting with the hem of her running shirt, bouncing nervously on her legblades.

"So, um... about the other day..." Emi began slowly. "I wanted to apologise for not telling you in advance. It was-"

Emi blinked. There, on the bed right in front of her, Hisao had just dozed off. Not only that, he'd pulled his blanket up around him and showed every possible sign of enjoying sleep more than listening to anything Emi had to say.

Putting on a magnificent pouty face, Emi strode across the room, grabbed the edge of Hisao's blanket and TUGGED. Hisao woke up with a faceful of the opposite wall.

"THAT was what I wanted to tell you about!" said Emi, equally angry and tearful.

"All right, I'll take you seriously, just... let me get some coffee, okay?"

* * *

Once Hisao had some coffee inside him and was looking rather more like a living human being than some creature dragging itself across a moonlit cemetery, Emi began again.

"So yes. Whenever I get angry or upset, that happens."

"So... you're the Hulk?" asked Hisao, grinning like a fool. Emi didn't punch him, but she looked about ready to. "Sorry. Go on."

"Ever since I was... um." Emi faltered.

"...Born?" suggested Hisao.

"Yes, born," said Emi, almost sounding grateful, "I've been like that. Whenever I get serious about something, I become really strong – and what's more, I get stronger the more someone resists me. You're the first person who's ever beaten me in a physical match-up."

Hisao considered this sobrely. "That's why you run. In any sport that features direct physical conflict, you'd end up hurting people."

"Well, that's not the only reason, but- Yes, yes. You're right." Hisao detected something off, but didn't push it. It seemed to him as though Emi was trying to tell him something in her own way, so it had to be in her own time too: pushing her would simply scare her off. "When I'm racing other people I don't have to beat them directly, I just have to be faster than them, so my legs get stronger and make me go faster. That's all there is to it, really."

Hisao didn't fully buy it, but let it go for now. "So I suppose you want to know in return how I was able to beat you."

"Well, I wasn't going to ask, but... yes. I am curious."

Hisao paused. "It's a bit difficult to explain. I guess I'll just show you." He stood, and beckoned Emi to follow suit. "Feel my chest."

Emi looked surprised for a second, but then looked up at Hisao with a smile both nervous and excited. Hisao was about to say something disparaging when she reached out and gingerly, almost tenderly touched his chest. "I don't feel anything out of the ordinary... wait." She frowned. "You don't feel muscular at all."

Hisao nodded. "Now punch it."

Emi's eyes shot open wide. "What?"

"You heard me. Punch me, right in the heart. You've got to do it hard – at least as hard as you hit me the other day – otherwise it won't work."

"But... that could kill you!"

"Exactly." Hisao looked Emi square in the eye. "Trust me. I'll be fine."

Emi held Hisao's gaze for a while, then looked away. She squared herself in front of Hisao, drew back her hand, formed a fist-

Thud.

Hisao looked down. He sniffed. "You don't trust me."

Emi's face fell to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. "No, I do, I really do!"

"Then PROVE IT!" Hisao yelled. "Do it again, and do it RIGHT this time!"

Emi looked about ready to cry, but she still cocked back her fist, let out a throat-scraping scream and-

BA-BAM.

Thud.

Hisao rolled over onto his back and looked up at the him-sized dent in the wall. He whistled appreciatively. "That is impressive."

"You bet it is!" said Emi proudly, buzzing with nervous energy as she helped Hisao up. "I told you I'm strong!"

"I don't doubt it: your physical, or emotional strength." Hisao smiled at Emi. Again, there was that uncertainty in her, which she soon covered up.

"So, um... what exactly was that?"

Hisao sighed inwardly. Let the Bullshit Olympics commence.

"Like I said, I'm not exactly sure. Like you, I've had this... whatever it is pretty much ever since I was born, but normally it only reacts to save me from danger that could kill me, like trauma to my heart. However, the other day... it reacted to your strength, for some reason. When it started adding to my arm like that, I was as shocked as you. I'm not exactly sure of the answers, but I'm hoping that we can find them." Hisao smiled at Emi: a tough but friendly smile. "Together."

Emi smiled back. This time, it was genuine: no fierce determination, no puppies and kittens, no hollow turmoil. This was Emi, the true Emi, shining through at Hisao. Again, Hisao found himself feeling sorry for his target, so he found his own way of covering up his feelings.

"So with that taken care of, I'm going back to bed."

"Whaaat?" said Emi in wide-eyed disbelief.

"There's still an hour or so before I have to wake up: I can still catch some Zs before then."

"No way, José!" Emi took a firm grip of Hisao's wrist and paused. "I don't think I've ever met a person called José. Or even heard of any celebrities or made-up characters called that. Oh well." Emi pulled Hisao out of bed – a little more gently this time. "It's a bad habit going back to sleep like that after you've woken up, especially with that caffeine still in your system! You're coming with me and you're going to work it out on the track."

Hisao stared at Emi, his face deader than all the pans in the Great Kitchen Cupboard in the Sky put together. "What."

"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, mister! You're coming with me and you're going to run..." Emi paused for thought. "Five laps."

"Three!"

"Five."

"Four!"

"Five!"

"Done!" Hisao made a mental note to himself never to become a merchant. "But what about my clothes? I can't run in this, or my school clothes."

"Don't you have any shirts, shorts and shoes for casual wear?"

"Well, yeah, but they're not aerodynamic by any means."

"Neither are you. We need to get you into shape." Emi prodded Hisao's chest authoritatively. She paused, grinned, then prodded it again. "Wow, you're _really_ soft!"

"Stop that." Hisao sighed. "I guess this is my punishment for lying to you, huh?"

"You better bet, mister. Not to mention cardio will be good for that heart of yours: keeping your circulatory system in good health will definitely help you to live longer."

"All right, all right, I get the message."

The two of them stared at each other for a while.

"...What?" said Emi, first in the running for Most Naïve Sentient Being in the Universe.

"I've gotta change."

"Oh." Pause.

"Ooooh!" Longer pause.

Emi grinned. Just like that, she fell out of the running. "Well I don't mind if-"

"Out!"

"Okay."


	11. So What's His Name?

For the second time that day, Hisao found himself on his back, looking up at Emi – but this time, however, he was wheezing and covered in sweat. And yes, he was aware of how that could be taken out of context, but he was frankly too exhausted to care.

Emi grinned wickedly at him. "Had enough yet?"

"I'm not... dead... yet." Hisao let out a death-rattle which begged leave to disagree. Emi grimaced.

"Ooh dear. We'd better get you to the Nurse and make sure you'll be okay. Although since you're protected from life-threatening stuff, it's probably nothing serious."

Hisao tried to say 'you're not the one who feels as though the vacuum of space is trying to invade your lungs', but that very fact made him unable to say it. Emi helped him up and they half-walked, half-stumbled to the Nurse's office.

"So what's this nurse like? I hope he isn't the kind who likes gallows humour."

Emi gasped in an offended fashion. "Hisao! That is a very unkind assumption to make. Nurse is a very nice man... if a little pushy sometimes," Emi added in a lower tone of voice, pouting in her inimitably childish way.

"Pushy? What do you mean?"

Emi answered with reluctance. "...He checks my prosthetics. Sometimes by force."

"What, with physical force?" Hisao asked in alarm.

Emi frowned. "...No, he just lectures me until I do what he says."

Hisao let out a hoarse laugh. "Poor you, getting 'forced' to have done to you what you should be doing for yourself anyway."

"Hey, it isn't like I never check them! It's just... I've got more important things to do."

"Like running."

"Exactly!" said Emi, glowing with happiness that Hisao understood.

"Which is more important than making sure your prosthetics aren't rubbing into your skin so hard that it bleeds."

The glow instantly stopped. However, Emi couldn't muster an effective argument against this: instead she muttered something incoherent and probably offensive in a voice low enough that Hisao couldn't hear.

"That being said," Emi began as soon as she decided to rejoin the world of the audible, "most people don't know that prosthetics do that: I guess they just assume they're cushioned by water balloons or something. Where did you learn that?"

Hisao cast his mind back to the Burning Hells. Prosthetics were fairly popular there due to the high rate of dismemberments – some accidental, some intended – but they were very rarely sleek and well-fitting. He recalled some of the more popular models: the Chopper, the Cleaver, the Meat Hook, the Pincer, the Column – the last of which was quite literally just a stone column attached in place of a leg. There was one particular demon called the Farmer, because wherever he went he ploughed the ground.

"I... had a friend," said Hisao casually. "He went to the same school I did. Had a prosthetic leg too, although no legblades."

"Oh. Well, here we are: the Nurse's office." Emi turned them towards an open door through which could be seen a genial-looking young man in a lab coat, flicking idly through papers.

"Aha! I was beginning to wonder when you would drop by, little missy: you're later than you usually are," said the Nurse jovially, pointing a finger in mock accusation.

"Yeah, well, I had some business to do first," said Emi casually, although her smile was quite bright.

"Yes, I can see that. So is Some Business his real name, or...?"

"You-!" Emi found herself lost for words and brought a tantrum fist down on Nurse's head: he shielded himself with a clipboard.

"The name's Hisao." He introduced himself on the basis that it might take Emi quite a while to simmer down.

"Oooh, yes, Mister Nakai. You're late, you know? You were supposed to check in with me on the day you arrived, which was..." He glanced at a sticky note on his desk. "Five days ago!" Nurse sighed heavily. "I'll have to have a word with you in private, young man."

"Don't get too private with him now," Emi quipped, eager to even the score.

"Oh, don't worry: I'm not so heartless as to steal your new boytoy."

The two of them stared fiercely at each other for a couple of seconds.

Hisao broke the silence. "Uuum... you guys?"

'You guys' shifted their gazes to Hisao then back to each other. As if on cue they both burst out laughing.

"Oh... that was good," said the Nurse, wiping an errant tear from the corner of his eye. "You should've seen your face: you went deathly pale for a moment there!"

"I think we should give it up for now, though – for the sake of Hicchan's heart," said Emi, winking and nudging him.

Hisao let out a weary sigh. "Oh no, don't stop, I've always wanted to make my own version of the Three Stooges."

"Weeeell, our double act was getting a bit stale," said the Nurse, scratching his chin with a glint of humour in his eyes. "So! I assume the two of you have come here for more than jokes and japery, yes? C'mon Emi, sit yourself down, you know the drill."

"Ugh!" Emi plopped herself down gracelessly on the chair opposite the Nurse. "Okay, but make it quick: I've gotta shower before lessons, remember?"

"How could I forget when you tell me every time we do this?" the Nurse replied.

Despite the dearth of wit in the room, Hisao had to admit that Emi and the Nurse were very close. He said so.

"Oh, d'you think? We're not an item or anything, I swear," said the Nurse distractedly as he checked the join between Emi's legblades and her stumps. Emi poked her tongue out at the Nurse when she thought he wasn't looking: the grin he sported proved her quite wrong.

The Nurse clucked his tongue. "Emi, I'd like to take them off." Emi's face plummetted.

"What? No! You don't have to, do you?"

"I'm afraid I do. I think I see some bruising and I need to see how far it spreads."

Emi grimaced. "But..." Her eyes quickly flitted to Hisao and back, as though afraid that she might offend. The Nurse, however, was not.

"Sorry Hisao, but would you mind stepping out for a bit?"

"Not at all. See you soon." Hisao smiled at Emi and went through the door, closing it behind himself.


	12. On the Threshold

"There! All done." The Nurse opened the door, Emi limping slightly through it.

"He never puts them back on right," she complained.

"Ah, walk it off," said Hisao jocularly.

Emi froze and stared blankly at Hisao, as did the Nurse. Hisao's heart skipped a beat.

"Aaaaaah gotcha again!" the Nurse cried triumphantly, doing the cowboy gun 'pow-pow!' thing with his hands.

"You guys have got to stop that," said Hisao, clutching a hand to his chest. "Seriously."

"Eh, this boy's such a kidder," said Emi brightly, slapping – and then patting him on the back, just in case. "Well, I'm off for now: gotta get that shower and get to class! Seeya Hisao!"

"Yeah, see you soon." Hisao watched Emi go: something about her fragrance made Hisao have mixed feelings about Emi showering.

"Damn, you've got it bad, doncha?"

"You-!" Hisao stopped himself. "I'm not going to let myself be baited that easily."

"Not after the last two times, anyway." The Nurse winked at him. "I wasn't even moving it, the bait was just dead in the water, and whoosh, up you came like a-!"

"Yes, all right," said Hisao irritably. "You've got something serious to tell me, don't you?"

"I do, as it happens, yes," said the Nurse, winding down his winding up. "It's my job – part of my job – to make sure that everyone here who needs to see me does so, and more to the point that they take care of themselves too. Have you at least been taking your pills regularly?"

"Of course," Hisao replied matter-of-factly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You'd be surprised how the kids around here react to having to take pills," said the Nurse, with the tone of one who'd learned this harsh lesson by experience alone. "But it's good that you're doing that much, at least. However, you do also have to come see me. Did no-one tell you that?"

"No, although I guess I should have intuited it."

"You guess correctly, Mister Nakai! There are many students here who require my services in one way or another – and it is therefore down to me to make sure that they ask for them. I will not rest in my work, Mister Nakai: I will chase you, I will haunt you, I will hound you to the ends of the Earth to make sure that the worst does not happen, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Nurse," Hisao sighed.

The Nurse arched an eyebrow. "That sounded very insincere to me: very much like 'if I say this will you let me go already?' Now try it again."

Hisao cleared his throat, deciding that he wouldn't get out of here unless he took this seriously. He was beginning to see why the Nurse and Emi got along so well now. "I promise I will take better care of my health by taking my pills every day, coming to see you occasionally and running with Emi."

"Very good," said the Nurse with every sign of satisfaction. "How is the running going, by the way?"

"Well, I did my first five laps with her just now. I've never felt more like sticking a fire hydrant down my throat to put out my lungs."

The Nurse frowned. "What, only today? I asked her to trick you into – sorry, I meant 'invite you out' running a couple of days ago." Another wink as subtle as a hammer upside the head.

"So this was your idea?"

"Only partially," said the Nurse, seemingly genuine this time. "Emi's been blabbering about you to me after her morning runs pretty much ever since you arrived. I've gotta say, I think that girl's taken quite the shine to you." He smiled.

"I wouldn't be surprised," said Hisao, quite thoughtfully. Still, the Nurse chose to take it a certain other way.

"Oho, confident of your chances, are you Mister Nakai? Well then, I feel it incumbent upon me to warn you: if you break that poor girl's heart I will take it upon myself to part your head from your shoulders, do you understand me?"

"I didn't realise nurses were into capital punishment."

"They aren't normally, but I'm a special case." He grinned. "Well, as sorry as I am to cut this short, I'm afraid we both need to get moving. There's time for just one last joke though, if you'll indulge me."

"Well, if it is the last."

"The very last you'll hear, trust me." Hisao frowned slightly at this wording. In an elaborate gesture, the Nurse raised up a fist to the door against which he'd been leaning for most of the conversation and rapped smartly upon it, four times, evenly spaced.

"Knock knock!"

Hisao rolled his eyes. Really? A knock knock joke?

"Who's there?" Hisao droned.

"_YOU."_

The very incarnation of Death stood before Hisao.

Hisao frowned in uffish thought, working out the joke. "Ooooh, right, because this is Death's-" Hisao ducked, narrowly missing a scythe-blade that embedded itself in the door.


	13. TGIF

Hisao turned his duck into a rather fluid backwards roll, causing the other blade to miss him by mere millimetres as it came slicing down. He ended up hitting the door on the other side of the corridor and just avoided slamming his head – which was fortunate because just at that moment the hand-scythe that had just missed him came whirring through the air towards him. He dived sideways out of the way and scrambled to his feet: behind himself he heard the door being reduced to matchwood as the scythe span through it... and then back.

"Boomerang sickles?" Hisao yelled at no-one in particular as he ran. "REALLY?"

The black figure ducked slightly as it went through its door, its high hood brushing the lintel as it effortlessly pulled its one scythe from the door and caught the other as it whirred back towards him.

"THEY ARE CALLED SHOTELS."

With that the Angel of Death spread his white, whispy wings: they filled the entire corridor, their tips trailing along the walls. Hisao made the mistake of looking back at this point and for a moment swore that giant, skeletal hands were advancing down the corridor towards him. He ran faster.

It is said that Death flies on wings faster than thought. Hisao reached the door: the instant he touched it Death was there, appearing at his side in a whisper.

"THE WAY IS SHUT."

A quick pull on the door-handles proved this to be correct. This precious moment cost Hisao the one chance he had to escape: Death's shotel swang towards him, its infinitely sharp blade leaving a trail of ozone in its wake as it cut apart molecules in its path-

_CLANG_

Hisao opened his eyes. In front of them were his arms, which he'd instinctively thrown up to protect himself, for what good that would do. As it turned out it had done him much good indeed: the awful grey-blue pattern of the sweatervest covered his arms, turning them into living shields.

For a moment, Death himself was nonplussed. "WHAT."

Hisao took the opportunity to strike down as hard as he could on Death's other hand: Diablo's infernal strength powering the blow, the shotel held therein clattered to the floor. Not giving a moment's respite, Hisao pressed the attack: using his other sweatervested hand he turned his block into a hold, grabbing Death's wrist. By this time Death had regained his wits and simply slammed his free hand into Hisao's middle. Although the vest took the majority of the blow, Death could punch a lot harder than Emi: the wall behind Hisao simply disintegrated under the force, depositing him quite unceremoniously on his ass in the middle of an office clouded by brick-dust.

As Hisao collected his dazed senses, the Angel of Death stepped through the hole, shotels recovered. "BEFORE YOU DIE, BRIEF MORTAL, KNOW THAT I AM MALTHAEL, ARCHANGEL OF DEATH. IF YOU HAVE ANY LAST-"

"Get on with it already," said Hisao, propping himself up on his elbows and glaring at the spectral figure before him with naught but bloody defiance in his eyes. "There's nothing I hate more than grandstanding in a fight."

The hood twitched slightly, as though the invisible head within were being cocked to one side. "NOT BAD LAST WORDS, ALTHOUGH I HAVE HEARD THEM BEFORE." He paused. "THAT WAS LONG AGO. IT MATTERS NOT. HIE THEE TO THE BURNING HELLS, SINNER." Malthael raised his weapons for the final strike.

Hisao twigged a strange noise, just on the cusp of his hearing: it sounded like someone calling his name, quickly getting closer.

The wall to Hisao's left exploded towards Malthael: a golden something shot through the bricks and tackled Death, carrying him through into the next room and taking out yet another wall. Hisao wondered idly as he stood and dusted himself off just how many more bricks would have to suffer as casualties of this fight. He looked fearfully to the ceiling above him, hoping that it would hold. It showed distinct signs of cracking. Hisao ran for it.

He ran into the next room just as the ceiling and part of the adjacent corridor collapsed. There, he stopped and gawped at the scene.

Malthael had been tackled to the ground, lying on his back amidst the wreckage of a splintered desk. In a straddling position atop him, delivering a savage beatdown with her cane, was... Lilly. A winged Lilly, with luxurious golden feathers the same colour as her hair growing from behind her shoulder-blades.

Hisao stared. "...Lilly?"

Lilly adjusted her hearing slightly towards him, her eyes closed. "Hisao! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, but-!"

Malthael took advantage of the distraction to give Lilly a cuff o' the ear. Another wall bit the dust, moving the fight back into the uncollapsed part of the corridor.

"MY, MY," said Malthael with a cold, ironic sneer to his voice as he stood, his shotels leaping back into his gauntleted hands as though magnetically drawn. "YOU MUST BE THE NEW GIRL. I MUST SAY, I'VE LONG AWAITED THIS PRIVILEGE."

Lilly picked herself up, both her body and wings seemingly unhurt despite having been hurled through a solid brick wall. "You will not have him."

"I HAVE EVERYONE IN THE END, APPRENTICE ANGEL," Malthael retorted, moving slowly yet inexorably towards Lilly, shotels ready to strike. "ONLY TIME STANDS BETWEEN US."

"Then you will be denied for one more day."

"SUCH DEFIANCE. SUCH FUTILITY."

Malthael struck, bringing both shotels down on Lilly in a killing blow. Hisao leapt at Malthael, but too late.

Lilly blocked the blow herself. Her cane raised high against Malthael, Hisao's eyes goggled as he saw the cane shimmer and change into a sword. It was a claymore. Hisao wondered, as he smashed into Malthael from behind, whether there could really have been any other sword. No, he decided: there could be only one.

Time sped up again: Malthael was thrown forward onto Lilly by Hisao's tackle, so she carried the momentum over using her sword-lock in his shotels as a pivot to kick him up and over. This time both a wall AND a ceiling had to pay the price for this madness.

Hisao judged that it might take Malthael at least a second or two to recover and dashed across to Lilly to help her up. "C'mon, let's get out of here before that bastard gets his breath back. Can those wings carry two?"

"They can, but I wouldn't be able to outfly Malthael even on my own. We must stand and fight." Lilly stood with the help of both Hisao and her sword, planting its tip in the floor.

"Do you really think you can stand toe-to-toe with the Archangel of Death himself?" asked Hisao disbelievingly.

Lilly grinned in a manner most unlike her usual self: it was a brash, bright smile, full of energy and passion. Hisao had to say, it wasn't an entirely unpleasant smile.

"I do not stand alone."

"Well, obviously I'll help, but-"

"Breithiúnas: awaken."

Hisao leapt back when the claymore burst alight, flames of divine brilliance flaring along its edge. Sometimes they jumped and arced as though the blade was made of the molten matter of Sol's own heart.

"This was a gift to me from the High Heavens," said Lilly, picking up the sword and hefting it as though welcoming back an old friend. "Its name is Judgement, its fires a source of no fear to the innocent. The guilty, however... will burn."

Hisao frowned in confusion. "What was that name? Brayoonus?"

Lilly smiled: this time it was a much more Lilly-like smile, kind and gentle. "Breithiúnas. It's Gaelic." She stepped closer to Hisao and whispered: "I had to look it up." She chuckled.

Hisao was somehow reassured by this: despite these drastic developments, Lilly was still very much Lilly. However, something still puzzled Hisao...

"Why are you screwing up your eyes so tight?"

Lilly frowned slightly. "The light of truth is not a weapon wielded lightly. Besides, I can fight well enough without sight."

Malthael announced his reappearance, crashing down from the floor above. He landed in a kneeling position, slowly rising with his shotels crossed over his chest like a great and terrible Egyptian deity. His wings flapped once, causing an icy wind to assault Hisao and Lilly: the fires of Breithiúnas did not flicker even once.

"He said that you're an apprentice angel," said Hisao thoughtfully, cracking his knuckles in preparation for the coming fight. "Who are you apprenticed to?"

Lilly's smile returned. "You should know that Justice is blind."

Lilly charged. Hisao grinned and followed.


	14. Rendezvous with Death

"ENOUGH."

Malthael parried Lilly's leading blow, skillfully twisting and swinging his left shotel so that Breithiúnas was thrown forcefully aside and down with a loud ring of metal sliding against metal, embedding the fiery blade into the floor. Hisao's follow-up was dismissed just as dexterously, Malthael turning slightly to the side so that Hisao missed his wild punch: he then lightly tapped Hisao on the back with his elbow as his assailant passed him, sending Hisao to the ground with a look of total surprise on his face.

Despite the two of them being wide-open to attack, Malthael responded to the situation by calmly gathering his shotels to his chest again and stepping away from them. He turned and spoke, his cold and penetrating voice piercing one's being like a chilling winter wind. "IT IS NOT MY INTENTION TO KILL EITHER OF YOU. I NEED YOU BOTH ALIVE FOR WHAT IS TO COME."

Hisao coughed as he picked himself up. "Oh yeah? How do we know you aren't just saying that because you can't finish us?"

Malthael's hood turned towards Hisao. In answer his left wing curled towards Hisao, its bone-like trails once more taking the shape of a hand, its long, whispy fingers reaching towards him. Lilly gasped, realising what was happening: she launched a vicious stab at Malthael's chest aiming for a chink in his armour, but again the Archangel turned aside her blade with impeccable timing and precision, not even looking at her.

Ghostly lines sublimed from Hisao's skin as though his body was smoking without heat or fire. He felt the very breath being stolen from him, a numb coldness taking hold of his extremities, slowly moving inwards towards his heart, the implacable onmarch of death-

And then, Malthael stopped. It was difficult for Hisao to tell for certain as he dropped to his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air, but it seemed as though Malthael had released him, not due to his own will, but because he had encountered something he had not expected.

"YOUR BRAVADO IS AS EMPTY AS YOUR SOUL." Malthael perfunctorily holstered his shotels at his waist and turned to Lilly. It seemed as though hostilities had ceased, for now. "LILLY SATOU, JUSTICE-IN-TRAINING: NO DOUBT WHEN THIS IS DONE YOU WILL INFORM YOUR MASTERS OF MY PRESENCE."

Lilly glowered at him. "I will."

"GOOD. I HAVE LONG AWAITED THE CHANCE TO REPAY THEM THEIR MANY KINDNESSES. AS FOR YOU..." Malthael turned back to Hisao, the empty hood staring at him fixedly. "I DO NOT JOKE. MARK WHAT I SAID: I WILL CHASE YOU, I WILL HAUNT YOU, I WILL HOUND TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH TO MAKE SURE THAT THE WORST DOES NOT HAPPEN. IF I MUST RESURRECT YOU A THOUSAND TIMES, EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY BROKEN, EVERY MUSCLE TORN, EVERY NERVE SCREAMING FOR THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH – SO BE IT. YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO DIE UNTIL YOUR PURPOSE IS FULFILLED."

Malthael took a few steps away, turning his back on them. He looked over his shoulder as though adding a last thought. "LEARN TO FIGHT BETTER THAN YOU DID JUST NOW. YOU SPENT MORE TIME ON YOUR BACK THAN YOU WILL IN YOUR GRAVE." And with that joke that was not a joke, Malthael leapt into the air and sped off, leaving a ghostly trail behind him. The building they'd just half-destroyed rebuilt itself, all the bricks flying back into place, the dust reforming into cement which pasted itself in place and then redried instantly, splintered and dented furniture reassuming its original shape in a bizarre display of real-life reversed footage.

Hisao looked across at Lilly whose sword had returned to being a cane, her wings also no longer in evidence. "Well... it was nice of him to reconstruct the building, at least."

Lilly frowned reprovingly at Hisao. "That was me."

"Being the Angel of Justice gives you super contracting powers?"

Lilly raised her cane and, with great pomp and ceremony, brought it down gently on Hisao's head, almost as though she was knighting him. "No. It was simply a bit of magic to repair the building to its intended state."

"Then would you mind dropping by my room later? I'd appreciate it if you could work some of your magic there too." Hisao paused, realising what he'd just said.

Lilly coughed demurely into a hand, smiling and faintly blushing.

"Please forget I said that."

"As you wish. Come: let us withdraw to the tea room and discuss what happened here."

"All right, just, uh... let me get changed first. How are you still so clean after a fight like that?"

"Angelic power, I suppose...?"

* * *

"Is it safe to assume that the real Nurse isn't coming back?" asked Hisao, once they each had a gently steaming cup of Assam in front of them.

"Yes," said Lilly, laying down her cup so softly that it barely chinked against the saucer. "I would guess that Malthael took his soul and then used it to assume his appearance and manner. He has total access to the Nurse's memories: he can create an absolutely flawless disguise."

"He certainly had me fooled, although that doesn't seem to take much," commented Hisao, a touch sourly. "So we're going to have to just let that ghostly son of a bitch watch us from a distance, planning whatever he's planning?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Lilly sighed. "He has demonstrated that we cannot defeat him, even with our combined power. As he anticipated, I will send word to the High Heavens that he is here. They may send help, or then again they may not. They don't have the best track record of reacting to threats in the human world."

This was where things got tricky. Hisao knew the history, of course, having spent his time in the Burning Hells, but he wasn't sure whether he could reveal that fact to Lilly.

"So, uh... aren't you curious to know how I was able to fight him?"

Lilly remained quiet for quite some time. When she spoke, she opened her eyes and looked directly at Hisao: for a moment he swore that she could see, the shock sending a shiver down his spine. "I knew from the moment I first saw you – before we met – that you are a champion of the Lord of Terror." Although she hadn't spoken his actual name there was still a tremble of power in her words: it seemed as though the sun itself darkened, but the moment soon passed. "When I look upon the world with my new eyes, I can see the truth of anything I look at – at least, so I thought." Lilly looked troubled. "When I tried to peek into your soul, I... couldn't. I don't know why."

Hisao frowned in recollection. "Malthael said that my soul was empty."

"Yes, but that can't possibly be true. An empty soul wouldn't be able to function: the body it resides in would be indistinguishable from a lifeless husk. It seemed more to me as though your soul was... clouded. I know the difference between not being able to see and there simply being nothing to see and this was neither of those. I just couldn't make heads or tails of your true nature."

"Knowing this, you choose to confide in me?"

Again, Lilly paused to consider. Her answer was measured and deliberate. "The war between Heaven and Hell has been waged ever since the beginning of creation, long before humans even existed. However, even though angels and demons are supposed to be absolute opposites, it was the union of an angel and a demon that created this world."

"And which eventually led to the demoness being trapped in the Void and the angel being tortured in Hell for all eternity," Hisao pointed out.

Lilly nodded. "This is true. It may be that I will also pay for my mistakes. However, I cannot bring myself to believe that anyone is purely evil, or for that matter purely good: the potential for both lies within each of us and it is our choice which path we walk." Lilly smiled sadly. "I have to believe that even the damned can be redeemed. I wouldn't be able to go on, otherwise."

Lilly extended an arm, placing her hand on the table between them. Hisao recognised the gesture and did the same, placing his on hers. Gratefully, Lilly took hold of Hisao's hand.

"It matters not to me who you were or where you came from, only what you do in this moment; how you choose to define yourself in the future."

Lilly intertwined her fingers with Hisao's.

"I've placed my faith in you, Hisao. Many people believe in angels. Only a blessed few have an angel believe in them."


	15. Lost in Translation

Hisao had an explanation all ready for when he got back to class.

"Ah, Mister Nakai-" Mutou began.

"Teacher, I can explain everything, I just-"

"No need, the Nurse already swang by and let me know that he'd kept you a little too long this morning. You're in no trouble."

Hisao blinked. "Oh. Okay." As he crossed the room to his seat, Hisao noticed that Hanako was absent today. He made a mental note to ask Lilly about this.

"Wow! Why'd the Nurse keep you?" asked Misha excitedly, leaning across. However, Hisao was reluctant to answer: Mutou gave Misha a light tap on the head with his book. "Owie!"

"You can no doubt catch up with Nakai later, Mikado," Mutou reprimanded her, but without much force. "Now, as I was saying..."

The rest of the morning classes proceeded without much incident – for which Hisao was grateful after his near-Death experience. As he studied, he tried to keep his mind off of other matters, but there was a lot to consider: what exactly Malthael was up to and why he needed Hisao and Lilly alive for it; from whom he could learn to be a better fighter; what he was going to do if Lilly's angelic friends turned up and decided they didn't like their junior consorting with a servant of Diablo... not to mention...

"Wahahaha!" Like the footsteps of doom, Misha laughed as she approached Hisao's table at lunchtime. "C'mon Hicchan, we're going to the Shanghai today, remember? You're paying!"

"Only for the first round," said Hisao. And as Misha opened her mouth again he interrupted "And that means only one drink and meal for each of you, you hear? I've still got to sustain myself for the rest of the year, you know..."

"Not to mention the festival," Misha pointed out. She interrupted herself at this point, switching seamlessly to translating for Shizune – it took Hisao half a second even to notice the transition. "I suppose that just means we'll have to order the single most expensive drink and meal each, eh?"

Hisao smiled casually. "Okay, but I hope your girlish figures can take it."

It was comical to see how in-sync Shizune and Misha were: they both did a double-take, both glared at Hisao, and then finally looked aside since they couldn't really debate his point.

"Well... I guess we could maybe cut back a little," said Misha, Shizune nodding in reluctant agreement.

* * *

"Heeeey Yuuko!" Misha called out brightly as she practically bounced into the Shanghai. "It's your favourite customers again! Wahaha!"

"Please, Misha, keep your voice down!" This earnest entreaty came from a neurotic mousey-looking waitress, presumably the Yuuko that Misha had just greeted. "You might disturb the other guests."

"These two regulars here?" Hisao asked her.

"Yes," said Yuuko, in a tone of voice that appended a silent 'unfortunately'. "Although, I don't remember you. Sir." This last was added in a fit of worry that a manager might poke his head out from the back and fire her for failing to treat a customer with anything but the utmost respect.

"This is Hicchan, our newest Council member!" said Misha jovially, grabbing hold of Hisao in a gesture that was probably meant to be a friendly hug but actually felt more like a headlock. "He's new at Yamaku. Say, haven't you met Yuuko yet?" This last to Hisao.

"No, as it happens. Please let go of me."

"Oh." Misha obliged. "She works at the library too. I thought you said that you like to read?"

"I've been pretty busy lately." Which was true.

Shizune made an impatient series of gestures to Misha. "Can we stop fooling around and get a table, please?" Misha translated in her usual bright tone, completely failing to communicate any of Shizune's apparent frustration.

"Yes, of course – this way, please."

Once they were all sat down and had ordered items that weren't going to bankrupt Hisao, he made his play.

"So, Shizune, I was thinking: would it be difficult for me to learn sign language?"

The girls seemed to be a bit taken aback by this, but not at all displeased. "Wahaha! This is pretty sudden, Hicchan."

"I've just been thinking, since I'm a member of the Council, that I should at least make an effort to communicate better with the President. Don't you, Shizune?" asked Hisao, again pointing the question directly at Shizune. As entertaining as Misha might be, she wasn't one of his targets: he needed a direct route to Shizune, a way to communicate with her privately.

Once Misha had translated this, Shizune nodded agreeably and made a reply. "I think – that is, Shicchan thinks – this is an excellent idea and would be happy to have Misha assist you with this. What, I have to teach him?"

Shizune signed something that Misha didn't translate, but it was pretty obviously something along the lines of 'If not you, who else?'

"Well... I guess I could. I just..." Misha seemed oddly deflated by this prospect. "Please excuse me a second." Misha got up and went towards the back of the Shanghai, presumably where the bathrooms were.

This left just Hisao and Shizune. Even though he did not yet know sign language, he had come prepared: as soon as Misha left he whipped out his phone and wrote a text message, showing it to Shizune.

"She seems not to like the idea of me learning to sign. I hope I haven't upset her somehow."

Shizune got the idea and beckoned Hisao to let her borrow the phone, writing her reply therewith.

"You've got to understand that translating for me is a large part of her identity – if she's no longer the only one who can do that she loses that uniqueness. Having her be the one to teach you just makes it worse."

Hisao arched an eyebrow. "And yet you'd have her do it?"

Shizune adjusted her glasses in a no-nonsense fashion. "Of course: despite her academic shortcomings she's serious when it comes to signing and the two of you seem to get along well. Feelings shouldn't enter into it – this is a matter of pragmatism. I would very much like to communicate with you without having to rely on intermediaries like this." She gestured dismissively at the phone.

"Why? Do you have something special to say to me?" Hisao grinned as he gave back the phone, but was surprised by Shizune's calm response.

"I do, as it happens. Lilly's birthday is coming up soon and I'd like to help you pick out a present."

Hisao wanted to probe Shizune on this point; see if her could get her to confirm his suspicions, but at that moment Misha returned. She looked resolute.

"Sorry about that," she said, retaking her seat. "I've decided: I will teach you to sign, Hisao, but on the understanding that _I_ am Shizune's translator. You may talk to her freely in sign language, but for general purposes I will be her translator."

"Well... what if you aren't there?"

"I will be." Misha's stare had a strangely intense quality to it that Hisao couldn't remember ever having seen in her before. It seemed he was only just scratching the surface of the drill-haired one's psyche.

"All right, I agree to your terms," said Hisao, offering his hand to shake. Misha took it. She had quite a firm grip, Hisao reflected.

Shizune clapped her hands once in a happy, efficient manner. "Good! We'll start your lessons after the festival."

"How is progress on the festival going, by the way?" Hisao asked, leaning forward engagingly. "Bring me back up to speed."

Hisao allowed himself to be regaled with endless details about the festival preparations as the rest of their lunch continued: it seemed that the date was drawing nearer with increasing speed. Hisao wasn't certain exactly why, but he had a premonition that the festival was going to be a grand affair – and not just for Yamaku either.


	16. In My Room

After classes finished Hisao called Lilly.

"Hey Lilly."

"Why hello Hisao! What was your excuse for getting back to class?" asked Lilly, a smile in her voice.

"It turns out that our mutual friend the Nurse dropped by 3-3 and gave an excuse in my stead."

"What? He didn't do that for me."

"So how'd you get out of trouble?"

"Said I had some Student Council work that I absolutely had to take care of. I don't like abusing my position, but I do believe that these are exceptional circumstances."

"You can say that again," sighed Hisao. "Anyway, I called because I noticed that Hanako was absent today."

"She does that sometimes," said Lilly, a tad sadly. "Usually she only needs to take a single day off to feel better, but I like to check to make sure that it isn't anything worse."

"I could check for you, if you like," said Hisao. "I'm already outside the dorm buildings."

"My, you move fast, don't you?" Lilly chuckled. "Very well: since you're so eager to help out I'll leave it to you on this occasion. Be sure to let me know how she is once you're done, all right?"

"Will do. Bye for now."

"Goodbye."

'However fast I'm moving it can't be fast enough,' Hisao thought to himself darkly, putting away the Blackheart and hurrying to Hanako's room. As he knocked on the door he had dark visions of what he might find within: despite Lilly's reassurance that Hanako often did this kind of thing he had a bad feeling about this.

CAST SUCH UNWORTHY FEAR FROM YOUR MIND, the sweatervest scolded Hisao. THE ONLY POWER WITHIN THIS ROOM IS THE SAME AS MINE.

"You mean Hanako gets told off by her clothing too?"

There was no response. Hisao figured he'd just have to work it out himself.

He knocked on the door. There was no answer immediately forthcoming.

"...Hanako? Are you there? It's Hisao. I just want to talk."

Silence.

And then footsteps, very soft, approaching the door. Hisao breathed a sigh of relief: he'd been afraid that Hanako might not even react.

The door opened. Hisao took back his sigh. Inside was pure darkness: not just normal darkness from the lack of light but actual physical darkness with substance of its own, roiling and swirling like a turbulent oil slick.

"Hanako?"

...No answer. The darkness moved slightly as though disturbed by motion inside but didn't go past the threshold, as if there was an invisible barrier holding it inside.

Hisao took a deep breath. There was only one thing to do.

"Hanako, I'm coming in."

He stepped forwards into the darkness. It swallowed him up like the water of the sea, the door clicking shut behind him.

Hisao kept his eyes closed, and not because he wouldn't be able to see in the darkness. As his time in the Burning Hells had taught him, living darkness like this doesn't merely obscure vision – indeed, it may even show you things that you wouldn't want to see. He wandered on through the dark, trying to feel his way: even though it felt like moving through water, he could breathe and hear perfectly well – not that there was anything to hear, only the silent sussuration of the darkness all around him.

"Hanako, are you there?" he called out. He had an uncanny feeling that this darkness was somehow down to Hanako: while he was in here, he was at the mercy of her whims. He didn't fear too much for his own safety but he had to find her and talk to her as soon as possible, which could be a problem if she didn't want to be found.

Hisao heard something to his right: a gentle pattering of unshod feet, almost quiet enough to be inaudible. "Please, show yourself to me. I promise I'm not angry at you: I just want to check on you, for Lilly's sake." Hisao paused, and then added: "You don't have to be afraid."

"_I don't want to lose you."_ It was Hanako's voice but it sounded strange, as though she were talking from far away and very quietly but he could hear her as though she were whispering directly into his ear. Hisao reached towards where he thought the voice had come from but grasped nothing.

"Lose me? What do you mean?" Perhaps not the most insightful of questions, but at least she was talking now. Keep her attention, keep her engaged.

"_You were really nice to me... the first boy ever to get so close... but now you're more interested in Shizune..."_

Hisao could feel the emotional power surge through the darkness all around him. The air was thick with fear. As only a servant of Diablo could know, fear can be very powerful. This was another moment where a careful choice of words was in order.

"I'm sorry, Hanako. I didn't know you liked me back."

"_...You mean... you do like me?"_

Hisao smiled, as genuinely as he was able. "Of course. Why wouldn't I? You're a very kind girl, and pretty as well."

"_Don't say that!"_ The fear tightened on Hisao, coiling around him like a boa threatening to crush every bone in his body. _"You don't mean it!"_

"Mean it? I don't know it for certain, but I want to believe that it's true," said Hisao, feeling strangely calm despite the fact that he could very easily die in this abyss. "I like to think that you can see a person's true nature in their face and that its beauty matches that nature, regardless of age or scars." This was a lie, but the important question was: could Hisao get Hanako to believe it?

It seemed to work: the pressure around Hisao slackened slightly. _"...I can't show myself to you."_ This was less afraid, more sad.

"That's okay, you don't have to," said Hisao gently. "I just want to know that you'll be okay. You can take as long as you need, I just..." Hisao paused, assuming a heartfelt demeanour. "I can't bear the thought of you not coming back to class again. Even if we don't talk much, just seeing you there makes me happy."

There was no reply, the air holding itself as though in disbelief. Slowly, bit by bit, the fear drained away, the darkness going with it. Hisao finally opened his eyes and saw black strands streaking past his eyes, scurrying away into the shadows as though fleeing back home. A low light returned to the room, although there wasn't much of it: the lights were off and the curtains closed against the sunlight such that the entire room was cast in murky gloom.

He was standing in the middle of Hanako's room. Hanako herself was in bed. Hisao checked: she was sleeping. Could that have been one of Hanako's nightmares he'd wandered into? He regretted keeping his eyes closed – he might have been able to garner some useful insight into the workings of Hanako's mind – but decided that it was probably best this way.

As he stood there, thoughtfully staring at Hanako's sleeping face, he had to say: she looked perfectly peaceful. Now that the nightmare had been dispelled there was no fret, no fear, all of her usual anxiety completely fled from her face. Her hair still covered her scars, and for a moment Hisao was sorely tempted to brush it away to see what lay beneath – but decided against it. It just felt wrong, somehow, as wrong as it would be to take advantage of her sleeping state to undress her. Instead, Hisao pulled Hanako's blankets up around her, gave her head a gentle stroke and then took his leave, closing the door softly behind himself.

Hisao reflected on how protective that girl made him feel: while Emi had some of the same natural cuteness she was still very much determined to stand on her own two legs (as it were), whereas Hanako just radiated worry and doubt. Had she always been that awkward? How did she get her scars? These were some questions Hisao resolved to ask Lilly as he saw her making her way towards him down the corridor.

"Lilly! Glad you came."

Pause, turn, smile. "Hisao. Is all well with Hanako?"

"I think so, yes: we talked a little and whatever it was that was troubling her seems to have been settled for now, so she's sleeping."

Lilly gave an audible sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I was afraid that it might be worse than usual this time."

Hisao took a leap of faith. "You mean, 'room full of darkness' worse?" He saw that he'd hit his mark: Lilly was quite taken aback.

"The whole room? It's never been that bad before." She paused. "...And you dealt with it?"

"I walked in, yes." Lilly gasped and looked about ready to slap Hisao for his lack of caution, so he hurriedly continued: "Considering my 'special talents' I was sure I'd be safe."

'Which I nearly wasn't,' Hisao added in the privacy of his head.

Lilly took a moment to compose herself. "Well, thank Heaven for small miracles. She has reacted this way to unpleasantness in the past, but it was never quite that severe. I was always able to contain it, with... my own talents."

"You mean you're able to hold it back?"

"Somewhat, yes. However, as you've no doubt discovered for yourself, it's largely dependent on Hanako's mental state: kind gestures and words of reassurance go much further than any God-given power."

"It's a good thing you've got both, then." Hisao smiled at Lilly. Even if she couldn't see it, he hoped she'd feel it. Apparently she did, as she reciprocated the gesture, but there was a sad quality to it.

"I hope you know, Hisao, that Hanako is very much enamoured of you. Her talk isn't just hero-worship: she truly wishes for something more, something closer."

"And what about you?" asked Hisao, reacting to a potentially sticky situation by going on the offensive. "You can't tell me that all the attention you've been giving me is just because of your duties."

Lilly took some time to consider her answer. "...Hanako's happiness comes first. I'm strong enough to take it."

"Love isn't a matter of damage assessment, Lilly," said Hisao, taking hold of Lilly's hand – she was momentarily surprised by the gesture, but allowed it. "While I want Hanako to be happy as well, I'm not going to let you just fall by the wayside. It wouldn't be fair."

Lilly's smile became sadder. "That which is just is not always fair."


End file.
